


Folie à Deux

by MixterGlacia



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alcohol, An Ace Person Writing Two Very Horny MEn, BS'ing Journalisam, Canon-Typical Violence, Emotional Manipulation, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Period-Typical Homophobia, Pre-entity, Slow Burn, Stalking, Suggestive Themes, Toxic Relationship, by my standards at least
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2021-02-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:49:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 22,935
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27711605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MixterGlacia/pseuds/MixterGlacia
Summary: Most Ghostface's work in pairs...so why not Danny?
Relationships: Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Original Character(s)
Comments: 44
Kudos: 49





	1. Photographing A Ghost

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BACK ON MY SELF-INSERT BULLSHIT BOIS! Anyway, this *fingers crossed* oughta be the first chaptered fanfic of mine to actually get finished. I'll be updating this (ideally) every wednesday and I hope you guys enjoy it!

_Ring...ring...ring…_

Liam Shelley jolts awake, shaking his head. His landline glows brightly in his darkened home. He squints at the damned thing, grumbling all the while.

_Private Caller._

His first instinct is to ignore it. He wasn't expecting any calls, so why bother?

Still...a tiny voice in the back of his head tells him to pick up. Liam huffs, grabbing it. "Do you know what time it is?"

**_"3:15."_ ** A distorted Voice responds.

"Some of us have to wake up early tomorrow." He chastised.

**_"Not you."_ ** The Voice chuckles.

A chill laces down his spine…"Alright, jackass." He stretches, back popping. "You call me around nine pm tomorrow, and I'll answer anything you want to know. Sound fair?"

**_"...Yeah. Sounds fair, babe."_ **

Liam is honestly too exhausted for this. "Alright, cool. Talk to you then." He hangs up before the mystery caller can react. He slots the phone back into its holster, flopping back into the covers. Encouraging this wack job was probably a bad idea…

Aw hell. If it gets really out of hand, he'll just shut this shit down. It was future Liam's problem.

* * *

Liam had a fairly set schedule for home editing days. Get up, make a cup of tea, glare at his photos until they made sense, mock up a few layouts for his higher-ups, rinse and repeat.

Of course, he also had to deal with offers from other papers too. Before he'd settled in Plant City, he'd been semi-well known for his crime photography. He wasn't a savant, but he knew exactly how much he could get away with, always pushing his luck. In Liam's opinion, there was nothing worse than a juicy story with bland imagery. 

Now, if the national press could release some of the Ghostface photos... that'd be nice. He'd run into one during his internship at the Miami Herald. True, it could never pass the cornflakes test, but there was a strange beauty to it.

It had actually influenced Liam's own work. One of his old co-workers had pointed this out, teasing him over it. What can he say? It gave him an edge in his field. Well, until he had settled at his current location. Sadly there wasn't a whole lot of demand for his wheelhouse here. He liked the people, though. That was enough for him.

Liam sips at his drink, adjusting the contrast on his current set. Time slips by loosely, as it usually does. The sunset reflecting off of his monitor is the only indicator that he probably should get something to eat.

He huffs, glaring into his pantry, willing a meal to appear. Of course it doesn't, but that won't stop him.

_Ring...ring…_

Liam bashes his head on a shelf when he bolts upright. He scrubs his scalp, making his way to the nearest receiver.

_Private Caller._

Oh... that's right. On a whim, Liam grabs his tape recorder off the side table, activating it before answering. "Hey."

**_"We're in a two-party consent state."_ **

…Whelp. "Do I have your permission to record our conversation?" His finger hovers over the stop button.

**_"Of course you do, doll."_ ** The Voice teases. **_"Just keeping you on your toes."_ **

Liam snorts, ruffling his hair. "You're being a pest."

**_"Guilty as charged."_ **

The photographer quietly scans the area he can see from his window. The streetlights were starting to come on, but he couldn't make out much. "So what was so important that you had to call me at ass o'clock?"

**_"What's your favorite scary movie?"_ **

Oh...joy. Liam makes a note of that, but doesn't hesitate with his answer. "Nightmare 3."

A husky laugh. **_"Figured you'd be into the second one."_ **

Liam makes a face. "Why's that?"

**_"Aside from you being queer?"_ **

Liam drops his pen in shock. "...Pardon me?"

**_"You'd be surprised by how chatty barflies are. Try to get better drinking buddies."_ ** The Voice is _definitely_ smug. **_"You'd make a decent Jessie."_ **

"I'm too old." He challenges, instinctively grabbing a steak knife. You could never be too prepared. "Just because I'm not straight doesn't mean I'm gonna automatically be into a leather bar dream sequence."

**_"Are you saying you_ ** _wouldn't_ **_let some handsome stranger tie you up?"_ ** They practically purr. **_"I could show you a thing or two."_ **

Liam barks out a laugh. "Don't flatter yourself. I have higher standards than you qualify for."

**_"I_ ** _do_ **_like a challenge."_ **

The implications hang in the air like smoke. Alright. If this psycho wants to dance, Liam can certainly oblige. Plus, it was a decent survival strategy. "Then let's make it interesting." He invites.

The man can almost hear the gears turning. **_"I'm listening."_ **

"You like playing trivia games." He doesn't let the Voice answer. He knows he's right. "You've watched Silence of the Lambs, yeah?"

**_"Of course."_ **

"So you probably know where I'm going with this." He winds the phone cord around his fingers. "Quid pro quo. We swap questions. If we get it right, we can ask for a reward."

**_"Within reason, I hope."_ **

"Duh." Liam yawns. "But if we mess up, the other gets a free prize. What do you think?"

**_"Sounds lovely. I'll let you ask first."_ **

Liam mulls over his options. "How many locks are in my house?"

There's a distorted rustling for a minute. **_"If you count the windows, there's nine."_ **

Ah shoot. That was an easy one. "Yeah. What do you want?"

**_"Come outside. I want to get a nice picture of you."_ **

Liam takes a breath. "Surely I'm not your type."

**_"Don't count yourself out, baby."_ ** The Voice drops into a rumble. **_"Now come out."_ **

Christ, Liam hopes he's not about to be jumped. He opens the front door, scanning the horizon. When he's not immediately attacked, the man hesitantly strikes a pose. He makes sure the knife is obvious, lest Ghostface gets any funny ideas. After a few moments, he heads back inside. Instinctively he slides the deadbolt closed.

Liam can _hear_ the fucker laughing faintly from across the room. He picks up the handset with a scowl. “Don’t be an asshole.”

**_“I’m not!”_ ** The killer insists. **_“You’re just so much fun.”_ **

“Don’t push your luck.”

The Voice drops into a dangerous tone. **_“I don’t think you’re in a position to threaten me.”_ **

“Certainly hasn’t stopped me before.” Liam growls back.

There’s a shaky breath **_“...I think it’s my turn for questions, isn’t it?”_ **

The photographer folds his arms. “Go on then.”

**_“What door am I at?”_ **

While he fully expected it, the query was still...disconcerting. Liam mulls it over. “Well...you didn’t put up a fuss when I was at the front, so you’re within eyesight of that. But...you like playing games. So I think you hoofed it around back.”

...The knocking startles Liam.

**_“That’s my boy.”_ ** The Voice praises, though they don’t open the door. **_“What do_ ** _you_ **_want?”_ **

“A picture for my personal collection. One you haven’t sent the press.” He stares quietly at the back door.

**_“Cheeky.”_ ** The knob rattles. **_“Let me in.”_ **

“You already got your reward. No doubling up.” Liam’s grip tightens on his blade. “Leave it in the mailbox.”

The stalker doesn’t answer for a long while. **_“...I like you Liam.”_ **

Of course they knew his name.

**_“I can’t_ ** _wait_ **_to get my hands on you.”_ ** The Voice purrs.

“You have shit taste, my guy.”

**_“To-may-to, to-mah-to.”_ **

“I think I’m gonna hang up now. I expect my prize to be here in the morning.” Liam picks at his shirt.

**_“You got it, doll.”_ ** He can hear Ghosty smiling. **_“I’ll make sure it’s well worth it. Chat soon, yeah?”_ **

“Sure.” Liam nods absently. “Sounds like...fun?”

With that, the line goes dead.

Liam stops the recorder. His shoulders go slack. What the hell had he gotten into?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If I have to keep track of landlines in another fic, I'll go insane. This is set right around when cordless landlines and cells came onto the scene, and that'll come up later but...fucking phones my guy.


	2. Terror Is A Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new photo and a new friend...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And thus begins my nightmare of figuring out Danny's movement patterns. Also if you're wondering why there's some weird vitriol about Florida as a whole? I lived there on and off from 2005-2019 OTL.

_ Ring...ring...ring… _

Liam is so close to throwing his phone away. Before he can snatch it up, the damned thing goes quiet. Sitting next to it is an envelope labeled with ‘Open Me’. What a massive tool. The handwriting is distinctive. Thin and shaky... almost spider-like. Some part of Liam knows he should be frightened that Ghosty had access to his home. In all honesty, he would have been more surprised if the bastard  _ didn't _ invade his space.

He uses a pen to pry open the...gift. Considering who he was dealing with, Liam wouldn't put it past them to make a trap out of the thing. When he tips it onto the table, several Polaroids flutter out. 

How  _ generous. _

Liam gathers them up, flipping through the set.

The first was Liam in his kitchen. Judging by the blurriness, it was through his one screened window. He had the phone in his hand, likely in the middle of arguing with the madman. The second was a copy of Liam in his doorway. It might be an uncomfortable situation, but the man has never seen himself quite like that. The angle makes him actually look rather handsome. He didn't think he could look good in photos…best not to dwell too much on that. The third was of him sleeping soundly. 

How  _ frightening. _ ..not.

Compared to the final one, these were all pathetic. This was certainly what the man had expected to get. Composed in the killer's usual style. Stark visual contrast between the (admittedly half obscured) body and its surroundings, obviously posed...there was just one problem.

This wasn't identifiable as any of the six victims. Ghostface didn't  _ have _ unknowns. Liam's heart rate picks up. At the bottom of the Polaroid was a caption.

**Our Little Secret~♥**

That  _ bastard _ . With that, Liam was a suspicious individual. He pinches the bridge of his nose, startled by his work line ringing. "What?" He asks tersely after picking up.

_ "There's a writer asking for you to meet at the St. Pete Times building." _

"I'm sorry?" Liam goes to stash the pictures in his lockbox. "You want me to go to Pinellas county for a  _ meeting _ ?"

_ "He's paying triple, so yes. Get going." _

Liam sighs dramatically. "Fine, whatever. I'll email Andy my drafts when I get back." He hangs up, then goes to get dressed as quickly as he can. He ensures that his place is locked up, checking the backseat of his car before getting in. 

This drive was gonna suck.

* * *

Fuck Tampa and its unholy traffic. Liam slams the door shut, struggling with his keys. He tries to make sure his seldom worn blazer isn't  _ too _ wrinkled. With that he heads into the office. He’s casually chatting with the receptionist when a newcomer leans on the counter.

“You’re Mr. Shelley, right?”

Liam looks up, shoulders tensing slightly. He knows that face. “I am. Just call me Liam.” He confirms.

“Ah, okay! I’m Jed Olsen, from the Gainesville Sun.” The reporter smiles warmly, holding out a hand.

“I’m aware.” Liam returns the gesture. “I thought you did your own photography?”

Jed chuckles awkwardly, motioning for Liam to follow. “Guilty as charged!”

It was too damned early for this cutesy back and forth shit. “So...you made me drive over an hour for…?”

“I’m not allowed to collaborate?” Jed’s eyes are on Liam the whole time as he ushers Liam into an empty conference room. “Besides, this is gonna be a sizable story.”

Liam arches a brow. “So is this your usual bread winner?”

Something in Jed’s stance changes then. He goes stock still, gaze becoming steely. “I’m a very busy man, Liam. You’ll have to get more specific.”

“Ghostface.” The photographer shoves his hands in his pockets. “Your name is synonymous with theirs.”

Jed gives a slimy grin. “Well I can’t deny that.” He walks over to a coffee maker in the corner of the room. “The cops were contacted around three in the morning. There’s gonna be a press release in an hour.”

“...Alright? I’m still confused why you sent for me specifically.”

“I like your work. You remind me of when I was first getting started in the industry.” Jed sets the machine to brew. “It’ll give me time to focus on my writing. So are you in or not?”

Liam chews at his lip. “Is this a formal offer? ‘Cause my boss is pretty keen on seeing me stay in Plant City.”

“What do  _ you _ want?”

He gives Olsen a  _ look. _ “Stable income? What happens when your stab daddy moves on like they always do?”

“We follow them, duh.” The air smells like cheap coffee. “I’m a big name, right? Stick with me and we’ll always have work.”

“The fucker’s gonna get caught one of these days. What then?”

“America’s full of monsters, doll. So we’ll move onto the next.” Jed shrugs. “You can’t seriously look forward to documenting the Strawberry Festival for the rest of your career. Think of the bigger picture, Liam!”

“ _ Buddy _ , you’re talking to a  _ photographer _ . Anything outside of a Macy’s  _ is _ the bigger picture!” He bites back.

Jed rounds on him, a razor sharp smirk on display. “Then why not join me? You have a  _ gift _ for shooting crime scenes. We would be a hell of a team!” He offers Liam a paper cup. “At least  _ try _ it.”

Intrusive thoughts bloom into dark ideas in the back of his mind. He can picture Jed in place of the photo he’d received this morning. That snark-laden voice gasping its last word, fingers tightening around his-

_ Snap. _

Liam jolts back to reality.

“Earth to Liam.” Jed teases.

“...Fine.” He takes the drink, noticing that it’s actually tea. Almost everyone assumes he’s a coffee guy, so that surprises him. How did he-

“Is that a ‘fine, I’ll play ball’ or ‘fine, I’m leaving’?”

“One month. You’ve got one month. After that I’ll think about it.” Liam fiddles with a pen in his pocket.

Jed’s shoulders relax. His smile softens into something more gentle...yet his eyes stay the same. Prideful and ice cold, with an edge of something dangerous. “Fair enough! We’d better get going. This press release is gonna be juicy.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Cool.” He gets up, ignoring his drink. “Whose car are we taking?”

“Yours oughta do well enough.”

He complies, twirling his keys around his index finger. “M’kay. You got everything you need?”

Jed nods. “Always do.”

Liam guides him to his vehicle, unlocking the passenger door for him. “Sorry that it’s a mess. I’m not used to chauffeuring. 

The other man chuckles, clicking his belt into place. “I’m no better. You need directions to the courthouse?”

He shakes his head. For all of his previous chatter, Jed stays fairly quiet. He fidgets often, but so does Liam. Besides, he has to focus on the road, so he’s not particularly observant.

He parks a couple of blocks down from the building, and hasn’t even gotten the key out of the ignition when Jet  _ leaps _ out. Liam is getting his equipment out quick as he can, grumbling. He jogs after the reporter, shocked by how  _ fast _ the man is.

The conference does confirm that Ghosty had arrived in the Bay Area. The cops beg for any and all information ‘gifted’ to the media outlets. They offer the standard reward money to the general public as well. Typical police guff.

Jed is at the forefront, demanding answers. How were they planning to stop this killer? What could  _ they _ do that Gainesville  _ couldn’t _ ? Why should the people trust them?

As expected, the Chief resolutely ignores him. Olsen never seeks an actual response. His skill hinges on sowing dissent. That was how he got so many exclusive interviews. He digs into the local’s doubts, and they know he’s followed this case from day one. They see him as some sort of expert in all of this. So he makes the officials look bad to push the idea that they’re inept.

Liam just zones out, focusing on his framing and losing himself to his work. Eventually the conference comes to an end. The photographer got some great material in the can. At least he thinks so.

Jed claps a hand on Liam’s shoulder, watching the other professionals disperse. When he’s satisfied, he pipes up. “The force is holding back something  _ big _ .”

“How do you figure?” Shelley starts to disassemble his camera. “They always hide something.”

“I mean, obviously. But they’re abnormally nervous. They must have something they think will cause a panic.” He grins brightly. “So what are they hiding?”

Liam makes a dismissive sound. “Jed, I think you’re looking too deeply into-”

“Am I?” The reporter interjects. “All they said was that it was a young adult male. Tell me, what’s odd about that?”

At first blush, Liam just wants to wave Jed off. Instead, he decides to humor him. “I mean...Ghosty isn’t exactly subtle. They always know everything about the victim?”

“ _ Exactly _ !” Jed grabs Liam’s free hand. “So why aren’t they giving us a name?”

“Maybe he’s someone important.” He jerks away, shaking out of the grip.

“Right on the money.” The reporter paces along the sidewalk, gnawing at his thumbnail. “I’m gonna keep a close eye on the obituaries and clip any that seem odd. Do you have any ideas?”

Sure, he’s got a damning photo back home. Even if the face was hard to make out. If Liam dared to bring it up, he’d be dead in the water. “No. I’m gonna head back to my place, unless you need anything else?”

“Is it because you need to develop your film?”

“Amongst other things, yes.”

“I’ve got a dark room set up at my rental, if you’d like?” Jed offers. “Be easier than driving all that way…”

It wasn’t the  _ worst _ sounding thing. Might throw off his stalker...still, something eats at Liam. What if Jed became the next target? Hell, he was already in hot water with the killer. That wouldn’t do at all. “I appreciate it, but no thank you. I might whine about the trip, but it’s honestly not that bad.”

Jed frowns, that odd look returning to his eyes. “Ah, of course...can I get your work number? It’ll make it easier to bounce ideas off of you.”

“Yeah, no worries.” Liam gets to his car, retrieving his address book. “Okay, go ahead.”

The reporter rattles off a surprising amount, but highlights one as his primary contact. His eyes wander over the sparse entries, chuckling. “Not much of a social life?”

Liam glares at him. “It’s just for work.” The man was right, of course. But he doesn’t need to know that.

Jed raises his hands in surrender. “My bad. Let me go ahead and get your number.” He pulls a ragged looking notebook from an inner pocket of his suit. The handwriting inside is borderline gibberish.

“Christ alive, how do you get anything out of that?” Liam snarks, watching as the man scribbles his info into a vaguely clear space.

“Heheh. You’re funny.” Jed lightly punches his arm. “As long as I can read it, that’s all that matters. Right?”

Liam shrugs it off. “I guess so. Anyways, where am I dropping you off?”

“The Time’s building is good.” Jed smiles, tucking the notepad back into his jacket. “I’m so glad to be working with you, Liam. I’ve been following your work for a while now.”

Liam snorts. “Even my fair pictures?”

“I’d go crazy if I had to slog through the shit you take on. I’m impressed with your patience.” Jed doesn’t look at the photographer, but gets into the car.

“Boring pays the bills.” Liam retorts.

“But it kills the spirit.”

Liam pulls away from the curb. He sighs deeply. “We can’t all chase after madmen, Jed.”

“Don’t count yourself out, doll.” The reporter raps his fingertips on the armrest. He goes quiet for most of the short drive. When they get to the drop off, Jed gets out. His eyes catch the Florida sunlight in strange ways. “Don’t let society stop you from hunting your dreams...that sounded more schlocky than I intended.” He titters nervously.

“It’s fine. Have a good day, man.”

“Alright, you too.”

The door closes, leaving Liam with an hour long drive to mull over all that nonsense.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you get a chance to go to the Strawberry Festival in the future, buy some of the strawberry onions. I promise you won't regret it. You know that bit in Holes where they got the onions you can just bite into raw? It's sorta like that.


	3. Chloe, Love Is Calling You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A VHS for your troubles?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Violence warning! Shit about to get messy.

The house was quiet when Liam got back. He shoulders the door open, letting it slam behind himself. He plucks a beer from the fridge. When the man turns to get a church key, he notices the VHS.

Something in his head splinters...but it doesn’t break. If anything, it just lights a fire underneath him. He storms over to the nearest phone. He snarls into the air, banking on the fact that his stalker certainly bugged the house. “Call me. Right _now_ you chickenshit!”

He glares at the receiver for a few minutes, until-...

_Ring…_

_Private Caller._

Liam snatches it up. “You must think you’re so clever, huh?”

A chuckle. **_“I_ ** _am_ **_clever. Same as you.”_ **

The photographer paces as much as the kitchen’s corded phone will allow. “Is there a _reason_ you’re trying to rope me into your bullshit?”

**_“You answered the phone.”_ **

“Everyone does!” He eyes the tape. “Are you planning on killing me? Playing with your food?”

**_“Maybe.”_ ** The Voice hums. **_“Why not watch it? It won’t bite~”_ **

“ _Make_ me.”

Their breath hitches. **_“Let me in, then.”_ **

“You obviously have no issue doing it your damn self.” Liam fires back. “So why should I bother?”

Another laugh. **_“What’s more...interesting. Just waltzing in? Or making you do it for me?”_ **

Liam scoffs. “Are you serious?” This emboldens him. His back straightens up and his voice drops into a dominating tone. “What are you doing right now? Don’t tell me some cheeky shit like ‘talking to you’.”

**_“...Research.”_ **

“Be specific. _What_ are you researching.” He realizes he ought to have his recorder on. As he reaches towards it, Ghostface interrupts him.

**_“I’ve got one going, baby.”_ ** They explain. They sound shaken up, which is extremely satisfying. **_“I’m studying a few house floor plans.”_ **

“...You’re already after a new one?” Liam pries. “What about me? Am I not _interesting_ enough for you?”

**_“Oh no, Liam. Not at all.”_ ** They purr. **_“You’re_ ** _too_ **_interesting...will you play the tape for me? I made it special for you.”_ **

Something clicks. “Is this your way of _flirting_ with me?”

The Voice goes breathy. **_“Yes.”_ **

Liam must be out of it because that _does_ things to him. He shoves that to the back of his mind. “And if I don’t?”

**_“Then I’ll pick an address.”_ **

Liam doesn’t need clarification. “Fine.” He swipes the thing off the counter, slotting it into the VHS player.

On instinct the man starts to reverse the footage, only to find it was already done. That earns a humorless laugh out of Liam. “Be kind, rewind?”

**_“Of course, doll!”_ ** The Voice snickers. **_“Wouldn’t want to ruin the surprise for you.”_ **

“I’m sure it’s a snuff tape, right? What’s there to spoil?”

**_“Oh, Liam~”_ ** They tut. **_“Don’t you respect the director’s vision?”_ **

He clicks his tongue. “Do you want me to watch this, or not?”

**_“More than_ ** _anything_ **_.”_ **

Liam’s tempted to ask for more collateral, but decides against it. He’s not sure how much he can get away with pushing the well documented serial killer. “I plan on judging your camera work heavily.”

**_“Oh, please do. I_ ** _love_ **_constructive criticism.”_ **

Liam hits play and is greeted by a blurred image. He’s surprised by the addition of text overlays. Bastard had too much time on his hands, obviously. It reads:

**Just between us...I wasn’t planning on striking last night.**

“I know.” Liam huffs absently. “It was a week early.”

**_“You know my pattern~?”_ ** Ghosty chimes in.

“Obviously.”

The camera is suddenly brought into focus, revealing a man bound to a chair. Unlike the Polaroid, which was just clear enough to get the point across, this was unmistakable. Liam’s eyes go wide.

He _recognizes_ the poor sap. “That’s mayor Jessup’s _son._ ”

**_“Mhmm~. You never liked him much, did you?”_ **

The photographer is in shock. He shakes his head slightly.

**_“How’d you put it to your editor?”_ ** There’s a distorted shuffle of papers. **_“Ah, here it is. ‘He’s a racist, homophobic, cunt Andy! He gets to run riot all over Pinellas county, isn’t that enough? No! He has to show up at one of the only queer bars in our town and bust my face open with a fucking bottle!’-”_ **

“ _Ghosty._ ”

The killer pauses. **_“As much as I love to hear you talk, baby, we’ve got more to watch.”_ **

“...tch.” Liam glares back at the screen. He scours the pixels as another figure moves into frame. A familiar halloween mask turns to look at the camera. Liam leans in, trying to make out anything behind the mesh of the eye holes. 

He can’t pretend he’s too bothered by Jessup Jr. finally getting what he deserved. He’s on the edge of his seat when Ghostface passes between the man and the lens. “Obstructing the main subject.” Liam chastises.

**_“Oh, you’re invested, hm~?”_ **

“How many scars do I _regularly_ have to cover up on account of him?”

The Voice hums thoughtfully. **_“Two on your face, three on your collarbone...well, you usually just wear high necked shirts to save on foundation.”_ **

“So keep your fat ass out of the way.”

**_“Make me~”_ **

“I just fucking might.” Liam’s shoulders tense up at a new caption.

**For You** **_♥_ **

When footage clears up again, the little shit’s throat is being unzipped from ear to ear. The blood paints wet stripes down the man’s crisp white shirt.

Liam bites down on his knuckle, harder than he realises at first.

The Voice is warm in his ear. Like that heat you get from a really good cocktail. It smoothes over his nerves, as they wonder aloud. **_“I wish you could have been there, baby. The things you would have told him. Getting to know you’re responsible for keeping your community a little safer…”_ **

“So this is all some elaborate way to turn me into an accomplice?” He confronts. “You give me evidence to use as leverage so I don’t turn you in. If I fight back, you’ll set me up to take the fall. All in order to get your way?”

**_“Heheh...You’re half right. Why don’t you go get a washcloth, though. You ripped your hand wide open. Or you could let it bleed, I’m not your master.”_ **

“You _clearly_ want to be.” Liam drags the phone back into the kitchen with him.

**_“Oh no, doll. I don’t want you as a meek little servant. Will you let me tell you why?”_ ** The Voice retorts, dropping into a gravelly octave.

Liam rolls his eyes, wrapping his fingers in a towel. “I can’t stop you.”

**_“I would_ ** _never_ **_work with someone I consider_ ** _lesser_ **_than myself. What would be the point? No, I want an_ ** _equal_ **_.”_ **

…”Is that meant to be a compliment?”

**_“Obviously!”_ ** They sound offended.

“So...you want a partner in crime.?” Liam generalizes, trying to not drop the phone into the sink. “Then tell me your real name. Hell, even just your first name.”

The Voice cackles loudly. **_“Sweetheart, you don’t have any right to that!”_ **

“I didn’t say I did.”

The line goes quiet for a good bit. That’s fine, Liam can wait all night.

**_“Will you call me by it?”_ **

“Yes.” He confirms with zero hesitation.

**_“It’s Danny.”_ **

“...Danny?” Liam finds himself disappointed by how ordinary it was.

**_“Yes?”_ ** His stalker's voice takes on a giddy edge.

“How far is this...thing going to go, Danny?” He fiddles with the knife block. “How many?”

The killer mulls it over, sighing audibly. **_“However much it takes to get boring. Sorry I can’t give you a neat little number.”_ **

Not surprising. Liam shakes his head. “Alright...I think that’s enough for tonight.”

**_“You didn’t say if you liked the gift.”_ **

The photographer's gaze lingers on his TV. God, what to do? Before, he would have shut this crap down right away...but this feels different. “I can’t pretend that you didn’t choose wisely. He was an awful brat who felt untouchable because of daddy’s money. He got away with far more than just assaulting random men in bars. I could show you some repugnant police reports involving him...though you probably already got ahold of them-”

**_“You’re rambling, Liam.”_ **

“Sorry.” He makes a face. “I...I appreciate it. Even though you did it for a selfish reason, I appreciate it.”

**_“You’re welcome.”_ **

“Good night, Danny.”

**_“Try and get some rest.”_ **

Liam hangs up, burying his face in his hands. He’s talking to a notorious serial killer. They’re on a first name basis. What the fuck was _wrong_ with him? He was past the point of no return, and it hadn’t even been a week. Liam has to lock up the tape alongside the photo. Out of sight, out of mind.

Then he sees his contact book. It’s getting late, but...something compels him to call Jed. It rings for a fair bit before the reporter picks up.

_“Hiya, Liam!”_ He greets, sounding a bit out of breath. _“Is everything alright?”_

“I know it’s late, but I wanted to go over the case with you.” Liam’s chest is starting to tighten around a tiny hollow feeling. One he hadn’t felt in a long time… “Would you mind coming over? I can order food.”

Olsen stutters a bit, but recovers quickly. _“Sure, but I’ll need directions.”_

Liam walks him through the route before hanging up. He orders a few pizzas, and tries to distract himself from his thoughts with some TV. The take out arrives about ten minutes before Jed himself. He smiles brightly when Liam opens the door.

He’s changed into a tighter exercise type shirt with a zip up hoodie over it. “Howdy.”

“Hey...sorry to drag you out of bed.” The photographer starts.

Jed holds up his hands defensively. “Oh no, I was actually going through some archives. You didn’t wake me up at all.”

Considering how heavy the bags under his eyes are, Liam doesn’t doubt it. “I see. There’s pizza in the kitchen, and if you’re a budweiser guy, I’ve got some in the fridge.”

Jed pokes through the takeout boxes, grabbing some slices. “So-” He speaks between bites. “Is this really just about ideas? You seem pretty rattled.”

Liam offers a tired, lopsided smile. “Well, I’ve just realized...this one was a week early, isn’t it?”

“Huh.” Jed blinks, pulling a small pocket planner from his coat. “I’ll be damned, you’re right.”

Liam chews at his knuckle, trying to work through what he can say without arousing suspicion. Before he realizes what he’s done, he tastes blood again.

A fact that doesn’t escape Jed. “Oh god, Liam-” He drops his book, trotting over. “What on earth did you do?” He takes the man's hand, rough palms brushing over the injury.

Liam feels cornered. His shoulders tense up, his brow furrows, and he flinches away. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Jed shakes his head. “At least let me help you get cleaned up. I’m real good at first aid.” His grip is unexpectedly strong as he guides Liam to his bathroom. He flips the toilet lid shut. “Sit.”

Liam numbly complies. His attention narrows, silently scanning the reporters face...huh. He’s wearing foundation. The more he looks, Jed has several scars across his face. He decides to stash that knowledge away, for future use.

“Liam, where’s your medical shit?” Jed asks.

The man motions to it. “I dunno if I’m running low on anything.”

Jed roots through the cabinet. “You are, but I can make due.” He sets all the materials on the counter, then picks up Liam’s arm. “Rest your palm on my knee.”

Liam does so, then he feels something. It’s a strange shape, strapped around the man’s thigh. “What the fuck are you wearing?”

“Hm?” Jed squints at him. “Oh! Sorry, it’s a leg brace.”

At that point, the reporter starts swabbing antiseptic over the wound. The sharp pain throws him out of his thoughts.

Jed makes an apologetic sound, and he runs a soothing hand down Liam’s back. “Sh...I know it sucks, but we can’t let it get infected.”

Liam subconsciously leans into the man’s side. He closes his eyes and just focuses on steadying his breathing. He’s extremely unused to this much physical contact. Between that, and how extremely stressful dealing with Danny had been…

“Liam? Hey, don’t cry!” Jed finishes bandaging him up, then cradles his face in his hands. “What happened, did I hurt you?”

He shakes his head, shrinking away. “No, I’m _fine._ ”

Jed touches the man’s hair. It makes Liam’s stomach _lurch_. “You can tell me anything doll. Did you get jumped?”

“No!” He snaps. “ _Please_ , Jed. _Stop_ **_asking._ **”

Jed swallows, eyes searching for some sort of sign. “Look, I know we’re just acquaintances, but…”

“I shouldn’t have invited you.” Liam pushes the investigator away. “You need to leave.”

Jed flinches like he’s been struck. “Liam I-”

“I’m _not_ repeating myself.”

The reporter pauses, then nods quietly. “Okay...I’m so sorry. I’ll talk to you tomorrow, alright?”

Liam just waves him off. He eventually hears the screen door shut. After that, the tears flow freely. He almost misses the call that comes around ten minutes later. He wanders to the nearest receiver, reading the screen through blurry eyes.

_Private Caller._

He tries to ignore it at first. He flips on a random show, huddling on his sofa.

But the jackass won’t stop calling. Liam resists for an hour before he caves. He snatches it up , knocking the main hub to the floor. “I’m going to _gut_ you like a fucking fish, you damned sociopath!”

**_“At least buy me dinner first~”_ **

“I thought we were _done_ for tonight!” Liam sneers. “What do you _want_?!”

**_“It seemed like you could do with a good vent session.”_ ** Danny observes. **_“I happen to be the only one who knows all your dirty secrets. So tell me...what’s eating you alive?”_ **

Liam wants to rip into him, break every bone, destroy the monster beyond recognition. The void in his chest widens. “ _You_ Danny! You’ve wrapped me up into your twisted narrative, you horrible _nasty_ thing! I can’t _believe_ I let you isolate me like this! Either kill me or let me be!”

A trembling laugh. **_“Oh, but we’re not done. I’m your only friend, Liam.”_ **

“How are you my _friend_?!”

Danny’s voice smooths out. **_“Because I’m the only one that can give you the rush you want.”_ **

Liam vents a harsh breath. “Which _is_?”

**_“Your twelfth birthday was eventful, hm?”_ **

It’s like a plate of glass shatters. “That’s between myself and the court system.”

**_“That so?”_ ** Danny wonders. **_“So this document about how you almost drown your sister’s friend isn’t real? It sure was easy to find. You slap me with the label of sociopath, but_ ** _you’re_ **_the only one diagnosed with the tendencies.”_ **

Liam’s hands begin to shake. “...Danny I-”

The killer waits patiently.

“I’m going for a walk.” He hangs up abruptly, ignoring the phone when it immediately rings again. He gets his coat, and finds a box cutter to stash in his pocket. The backdoor slams behind him.

He meanders through the woods for fuck knows how long until he gets to a clearing. His closest neighbor had dug a pond that was _meant_ to be stocked with fish, but...but he’s a lazy shit. Liam’s probably the only one who actually visits the place. He wanders out onto the rotting dock, wondering what his odds were of just...falling in.

A branch snaps.

“Oh my _fucking_ god!” He’s already got the knife out, not holding any illusion about what was with him in the woods. “I don’t think I asked you to _stalk_ me, asshole!”

A muffled laugh to his right.

Liam bolts after the sound. He chases the crunching of leaves, eventually catching sight of a stark white mask. The bastard is quick, but so is he.

Danny tries to loop around a large oak tree, and Liam manages to snag one of those stupid leather straps that flutter in his wake. He yanks _hard_ , bashing the killer against the trunk.

When Liam tries to press his advantage by getting his hands around the man’s neck, he’s forced to stumble back by a flash of steel. He trips over his own feet, smacking the back of his head on a thick root. His sight blots out, but he can feel Danny straddle his waist.

When the spots finally clear from his vision, he glares up at his tormentor. He’s satisfied by the marring on the otherwise pale mask. “Are you gonna kill me, or not?”

Danny shakes his head.

“So why the fuck did you follow me?”

The shrouded man pulls a small pad of sticky notes from a hidden pocket, a pen following shortly. The latter has a tiny light built in so he can see what he’s doing. After a few moments, he holds up the paper.

**Making sure you weren’t doing something stupid.**

“Why are you writing?” Liam gives him a judgmental look. “Is your real voice that lame?”

Danny rocks a hand side to side. Essentially ‘Sorta’.

“Just find a smaller voice thingy and put it into the mask, idiot.”

Danny tilts his head. He gives a thumbs up, then allows Liam to get to his feet. He points back in the direction of the man’s home.

“...Are you telling me to go back?”

A nod.

“In a bit.” Liam brushes the leaf litter from his clothing. “You’d better make tracks before I get the urge to rearrange your ugly mug some more.”

A snort. Danny must not take him too seriously, because he pats Liam’s cheek. He pointedly ignores how the other tries to swat him away. The killer holds up a strange hand gesture. The thumb, index, and pinkie fingers were straight up, while the other two were tucked tightly against his palm.

“...What?”

Danny huffs. He points to the area of his eye, his heart, and then Liam.

“Uh...you’re saying ‘I love you’?”

An enthusiastic nod.

Liam’s nose scrunches in distaste. “Okay, then.” This would be much simpler if the dick didn’t bring feelings into this.

Danny lingers for a moment longer, then vanishes into the night.

Liam keeps listening until the crunching of dead foliage fades into nothing. He stays by the fish pond for another hour. Eventually, he tires of the mosquitoes and returns to his place.

Thankfully there’s no surprises waiting there for him. He drags himself into bed, and by some small miracle, Liam is blessed with a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danny's like *sweats in switch*


	4. The Cat and The Canary

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Print layouts and poorly chosen lies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a little shorter than the others but that's okay

The next morning, Liam finds a strange device on his nightstand. It kinda looks like a remote for a window AC unit. His obnoxiously persistent stalker left a note, walking him through using it.

Liam presses the button, and when he speaks into it, the Voice comes out. As much as he was aware of this, it’s still unsettling to know Danny could sound like  _ anything _ .

Whatever. Into the lockbox it goes. Maybe a cup of tea would help to fill the ever growing hole in his chest. He sips at it while finishing developing the conference photos in his darkroom. There’s some really nice ones in there, if he does say so himself. Around noon, his work line rings. He goes to get it. “Hello?”

_ “Hey, Liam. It’s Jed.” _ He sounds a bit less excitable than what Liam had gotten used to.

“Oh, hi.” He scratches at the back of his neck. “I’m, uh...I’m sorry for flipping out on you last night. I’ve been going through a really rough patch in my personal life.”

_ “It’s okay.” _ Jed reassures him.  _ “I shouldn’t have been so pushy.” _

Liam makes a non-committal sound. “I’ve got my photos done, by the way. We can meet up to go over them. There’s a little coffee place in Riverview, if you’re into that.”

_ “I haven’t been there, aside from passing through.” _

“I’ll pick you up. Are you at your rental?”

_ “I am.” _

“Alright, let me get the directions.” Liam requests as he tucks the copies into his briefcase.

Jed gives them.  _ “I really do appreciate your willingness to work with me. I know the drives are hellish.” _

Liam chuckles, leaning on the counter. “It’s not the worst commute I’ve done. I’ll see you in a bit.”

_ “See ya, Liam!” _

The man hangs up, then goes to get dressed. He makes sure he has an umbrella, too. Florida summers, man. He locks up, even if it feels like it’s in vain. He gets into his car and takes a moment to gather his thoughts. He flips down the sun visor and is greeted by a post-it note.

**Have a Good Day~** **_♥_ **

He’d vehemently deny it, but Liam finds himself smiling. He still tacks on a taunting  **‘Fuck Off :)’** for Danny to discover later.

The trip wasn’t so awful this time around. He actually gets there a little early. He raps his knuckles on the door, giving Jed a half-smile when he answers.

“That was quick!” The reporter observes. “Not that I’m complaining…”

Liam shrugs, noticing the amount of foundation his cohort was wearing had dramatically increased...that was strange. He tucks that away in the back of his mind. “Sometimes the traffic gods smile on me.”

Jed giggles, tucking his house keys into his pocket. “You’re a real funny guy, Liam.” He makes his way over to the vehicle, getting in. Not too long into the ride, he gestures to Liam’s hand. “How’re you feeling?”

Liam flexes his fingers, feeling the tightness of his healing skin. “I think I must’ve rolled on it in my sleep. It’s not bad, though.”

“If you uh, spoon a pillow like it’s a person you’re less likely to do that.” The man offers. “Around five years ago I broke my wrist. That was something my therapist recommended.”

“I’ll give it a shot.” Liam agrees.

Jed makes a strange face. “Hey, what’s with the sticky note?”

It feels like he chewed on a piece of tinfoil. He’d forgotten the fucking visor. He makes up something fast. “My boyfriend. He likes to hide them in weird places for me to find.”

Jed raises a brow. “You wrote ‘fuck off’?”

“He knows I’m joking. It’s kind of our way of saying we care.” Christ, Liam hopes Danny never caught wind of this.

“How long have you guys been together?” 

“Six months I think.”

“Do you think you’ll move in together?” Jed stutters for a moment. “I-I mean, I figured you hadn’t since he wasn’t there last night.”

“...Why are you so interested in my relationship?”

A slight blush creeps up the reporter’s neck. “S-Sorry. I’ll drop it.”

Oh, Liam would love that. He turns down a road and pulls into a parking lot. His mom had taken him to this shop a few times before he’d moved out, so it’s nice to see it’s still there. Liam goes in, heading up to the counter. He gets his usual breakfast tea, watching in shock as Jed gets  _ five _ espresso shots alongside a small black coffee.

Liam grabs a seat near the back of the café, giving Olsen a  _ look _ . “You’re gonna have a fucking heart attack.”

Jed laughs. “Live fast, die young, eh?” He dumps the shots into his other cup, stirring it. “Not the worst thing for me.”

Liam drums his fingers. “I mean, short of meth, I guess so.” He pulls the photos out of his bag. “I’ve got the good one’s here.”

Jed leans forward on his elbows, shuffling through them. He makes a few comments before halting at one in particular. It has stark contrast, using a trick that Liam had lifted from a certain stalker.

“This brings some of the crime photos to mind…” The reporter traces a finger over the police chief’s face. “Especially the ones from the second murder.”

Liam tenses, feeling fight or flight kick in.

“It’s perfect.” Jed grins. “Imagine this on the front page! I knew you were the one, doll.”

What was with these fucking nicknames? “I uh...could you cool it with the pet names, Jed? I don’t think my boyfriend would appreciate it.”

If only Danny knew he was being used as a shield.

“Oh, I’m so sorry…” Jed’s brow knits with concern. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

“It’s okay.” Liam laces his fingers together. “Anyway, do you want me to incorporate more of Ghosty’s methods?”

Jed nods. “Oh, for sure! It’ll give us an edge over the national papers.”

Makes sense. It’s kind of odd that Jed isn’t more suspicious of him. Liam feels like he’s been so obvious. He pulls a few other prints to the forefront. “These are in a similar vein to that.”

Jed shifts them around a bit, muttering to himself. He smirks, then glances up at Liam. “I do believe we have our layout. The Sun should be getting your check in the mail soon. Can I count on you to be there if something new crops up?”

Liam shrugs, but reassures him. “Yeah. Andy cleared my schedule for the month. I’m all yours.”

Something strange flickers through Jed’s eyes. It passes too quickly for Liam to pin down. The reporter seems to be delighted. “That’s great news! My offer still stands, if you wanna crash at my rental. Could simplify things…”

Liam mulls it over. “I’ll think about it…” He finishes his tea.

Jed seems to accept that. He takes the copies and stows them in his own shoulder bag. After that he polishes off his unholy concoction. “Have you been getting enough sleep? You seem kinda...burnt out.”

“ _ I _ look burnt out? Jed you look like a vampire on crack-” Liam quips before he can think. He claps a hand over his mouth. “I-I’m sorry.”

The reporter shakes his head, smiling. “Nah, it’s the truth. I’ve always struggled with insomnia.”

Liam tidies up the table they were sat at. He glances away. “I find that most journalists do.” He gathers his things. “So, am I taking you back to your place?”

“Mhmm. Unless you know a cabbie with a decent rate.”

“I mean, I do-” The man takes a napkin, neatly printing the number. “But I’ll get you home.”   
  


Jed thanks him profusely, voice dripping with saccharine sweet cheerfulness. He’s definitely cute, but somethings just...off about him. Liam was naturally wary of pretty faces.

_ ‘At least I know who Danny really is.’ _

Liam mashes the brake a little too hard, wincing as the belt catches him. He turns to Jed to make sure he’s alright.

The reporter smiles weakly. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, this happens to everyone.”

“I’m still sorry...how about I take you to dinner?” He offers on a whim.

Jed’s nose wrinkles. “Won’t your man be upset?”

“Danny’s pretty laid back about these things.” Liam pulls up to his coworker’s place. “As long as you don’t expect anything other than food, it’s fine.”

“His name is Danny?” Jed asks innocently.

Shit...this lie was running way too deep. “Yeah. Can we stop talking about him?”

Jed complies, apologizing.

“You’re fine, Jed.” Liam pats his shoulder. “Just keep in mind that I’m allowed to have boundaries. Okay?”

Jed nods. He unbuckles, hesitating at that point. “Give me a call when you get home, alright?”

“I will.”

With that, Liam has nothing but his own thoughts to keep him occupied. He fishes a tape out of the center console. Soon enough he’d have to make the switch to CD’s, but his car only took cassettes. He’d made this one when he was an angsty teenager, filling it with Pink Floyd amongst many others. He slides it into the slot, letting his mind drift.

The drive itself is tedious. Some dumb fuck tourist flipped their rental right outside of his exit. Between that and the rubbernecking locals? Let’s just say he’s more than ready to get inside.

The windows rattle loudly when the front door slams shut.

Liam ignores the first call.

And the second.

At the third, he sighs angrily. “Danny I’m trying to wind down. I’m  _ exhausted. _ If you don’t mind, can you stalk someone else tonight? We can talk tomorrow.”

With that, the calls stop.

He nods off on the couch, and for the first time in a while he dreams. His mind teases him with an unbidden scenario. It’s...steamy, that’s a word for it. 

_ He’s at some fancy place, shrouded in dark bedding with ruby red walls. Liam’s in his boxers, cuddled up to a man he instinctively knows to be Danny. The false version is in an equal state of undress. Though he’d never breathe a word of this, Liam certainly doesn’t mind. He traces a hand down a scar. _

_ “You doing alright, baby?” _

_ Liam pauses. “I’m fine. Just worried about the rain.” _

_ Fake-Danny snorts. “Relax. We buried her ten feet down. It’ll be alright.” _

_ That’s not your MO. Is the first thing that comes to his mind. It was just a dream, though. He shouldn’t try to apply logic. Instead, Liam just warns the man. “Don’t get cocky.” _

_ “Aw...would a kiss make things better?” The vision runs a hand through his hair. _

_ Y’know...what the hell. “Sure.” _

_ At that, Liam is swept up into Danny’s arms. He can almost feel the warmth of his skin. Nearly makes him forget that this isn’t real. The two make out lazily, until Liam pulls away. He has to wonder what his subconscious is going to make up for the man’s face. Glancing up, the photographer freezes. _

_ It’s Jed Olsen. _

He startles awake, sweating. He wipes a hand down his face.

“...What the fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> On a side note, if I gave Danny stupid boxers, what pattern do y'all think they'd be?


	5. Any Body...Any Way

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny gives Liam a job.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you don't think that Danny did a little happy squeal when Liam called him his bf you'd be wrong.

Liam had shuffled back into his room after that, trying in vain to get some variant of sleep. He sits up, back popping loudly in the quiet home. When he turns to get his glasses, the man is met by a rather fetching vase of flowers. His first instinct is to chuck them. Danny was obviously just taunting him. Liam was very used to being teased over his bisexuality.

Still...something tells him that Ghosty was being honest with his apparent interest. Liam plucks a bloom from the center of the bunch. He turns the stem slowly with his fingers. They really were pretty. Plus, flowers are certainly not cheap. It’d be a shame to let them go to waste…

_ Ring… _

Liam jolts, glancing over at his phone.

_ Private Caller… _

He sighs, picking it up. “Hi, Danny.”

**_“Hiya Liam.”_ ** The killer purrs into the receiver.  **_“Do you like them?”_ **

He gives a weak chuckle. “I really oughta root out your little cameras.”

**_“Nooo babe, that’s not any fun!”_ ** Danny whines.  **_“I’d just put more in.”_ **

“I’m aware.”

**_“So…? Did you like them or not?”_ ** He asks.

Liam gives a vague nod. “They’re cute, I guess. I do prefer my arrangements to be a little less extravagant.”

**_“Oh, that’s certainly do-able.”_ ** Ghosty assures him.  **_“Anything for my loving_ ** _ boyfriend. _ **_”_ **

Liam  _ cringes _ . “You heard that?”

**_“Obviously.”_ ** Danny confirms.

“I’m just trying to keep Jed at arms length.” Liam protests. “You understand, right?”

**_“Liam, there’s no shame in playing house.”_ ** The man laughs.  **_“I like pretending a_ ** _ bit _ **_more than your average Joe. That’s not what I wanted to talk about, though. Go into the kitchen.”_ **

The photographer obeys. He instantly spots the folder on the counter. “For me?”

**_“It certainly is.”_ **

Liam shakes out the contents, rather than reaching inside. He’d once witnessed an editor slice his hands open on a booby trapped letter. He’s greeted by two separated stacks of paper. Each of them stapled on the corner. On the front of each was a grainy photo and a name.

Brittney Carpenter and Jason Bell.

Liam blows his hair out of his eyes. “What do you want me to do with this?” In total honesty, he knows full well what the answer would be. 

**_“Pick one.”_ **

He shakes his head. “Absolutely not.”

Danny’s voice takes on a sharp edge.  **_“Do it, or that lockbox won’t be the only thing the cops find in your house.”_ **

“ _ No _ Danny.” Liam snaps. “You might think you’re untouchable, but you’re not  _ perfect. _ ”

**_“Is that so?”_ ** The asshole hums.  **_“Then tell me something the pigs haven’t guessed.”_ **

Quid pro quo again. Liam picks at his wrapped hand, mulling it over. “I believe you’re anywhere from twenty five to thirty years old.”

**_“That’s not-”_ **

“You didn’t specify  _ what _ I had to figure out.” He shoves back. “Am I right?”

A pause.  **_“...Just barely.”_ **

“Twenty five.” Liam tries.

There’s a frustrated sound.  **_“Yeah.”_ **

Some warm bubble of pride bursts in his chest.

**_“Don’t think that changes things.”_ ** Danny warns him.  **_“You still have to decide.”_ **

It’s like a bucket of ice water. “What?” He stammers. “I got it right! What part of  _ no _ did you not comprehend?!”

**_“Oh, I_ ** _ understood _ **_it.”_ ** A smug tone creeps into his voice.  **_“Unfortunately for you, I just don’t_ ** _ accept _ **_it. Plus, we never said that would get you out of this.”_ **

“ _ Bastard _ !” Liam barks angrily.

**_“Awww~”_ ** Danny coos.  **_“I love you too, baby.”_ **

Liam’s good hand curls into a fist. “No you don’t.”

**_“Honest to god.”_ ** Something in the phone crackles.  **_“Why would I lie about that?”_ **

“Because you  _ always _ do.” Liam looks at the way the pages are laid out, flipping through them idly. A wild thought rears up out of nowhere. “...I bet you’re at every conference.”

Danny’s breathing hitches.

The photographer notices. “Am I on the right track?”

Then, a long loud laugh.  **_“How do you figure?”_ **

“I mean, you’re obsessive for starters. You get off on knowing that you’re the only one with all the cards. So you’d rather get it right from the source, instead of reading about it later.” Something else clicks. “...Danny?”

**_“What’s up?”_ **

“Are you involved with journalism?”

If he didn’t know better, Liam would think he’d been hung up on. Did he cross some sort of line? He figures that he’s never heard the fucker quiet for this long.

**_“...I knew you were something else, Doll.”_ ** Startles him.  **_“Yes, to both points.”_ **

For once, Liam wasn’t terribly thrilled to be right. “How, uh-...how close were we at the press release?”

**_“Close enough. I could have reached out and touched you.”_ **

While alarming, it wasn’t totally useful. They tended to pack the reporters in like sardines. While he’s examining that little nugget, Danny speaks up again.

**_“By the way? I don’t care for that dickweed writer.”_ **

“Who? Jed??”

**_“I know you’re just being polite. But next time he hits on you? Crush his hopes or I’ll crush his windpipe so he can’t do it again.”_ ** His voice has dropped into that dangerous octave once more.  **_“We clear?”_ **

“Yeah, yeah.” Liam had sort of seen this coming. He held no faith that Danny would be the type to share. “He’d probably faint if he knew that his hyperfixation was talking about him.”

A dark chuckle.

“It’s kind of a shame though.” He muses. “If things were different I might have taken him on a few dates. If only to get a chance to see what he’s hiding under all that makeup. His eyes are rather striking, too.”

**_“He wears what now?”_ **

“Foundation. When you’re close enough you can tell that he’s pretty scarred up.” Liam yawns. “I also think he’s wearing a few shades too dark. It looks kinda strange, but I don’t wanna be rude about something like that.”

**_“I see...anyway, we’ve gotten way off track.”_ ** Danny pivots.  **_“Pick one.”_ **

_ Shit. _ Liam is grasping at straws. Then- “Give me a week to research them.”

**_“Why should I?”_ **

“You’ve still got two weeks before you’ll hit again. If I have to do this, I’d like to do some studying of my own. Who knows, I might even find something you don’t know.” Please,  _ please _ let this work.

**_“I think I can accept that. I need to get going anyway.”_ **

“Fine. Don’t do anything stupid.”

**_“Love you, Liam.”_ **

At that, the house is distressingly quiet. So much so that Liam has to flip on the TV. He doesn’t feel like fishing out a video, so he navigates to the news. They’re talking about Ghosty, of course. Speculating about the most recent kill.

Liam wonders how long the cops planned on keeping the guy’s identity a secret. Eventually the droning voices lull him back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> aw shit...here we go again.


	6. The House Of Mortal Sin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seeing no way out, Liam has to start playing along...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Alcohol, Slight Dub Con, Suggestive Themes

The alarm clock goes off in Liam’s bedroom. His back  _ aches _ horribly as he shuffles down the hall. It takes too long for him to get the damnable thing to shut up. He had settled on going into his normal place of work. They had a nice archive, one that had never let Liam down when he got stuck.

He showers, only slightly worried about where all of Danny’s cameras were hidden. If the asshole wanted nudie pics, there wasn’t much Liam would be able to do about it. Well, short of wearing boxers 24/7.

Whatever. Let the fucker have a show. As sad as it might be, he did get an odd sense of satisfaction from knowing Danny found him attractive. Enough to fight over, judging by his distaste of Jed.

Hopefully Liam had enough sway with the killer to keep the journalist off the chopping block.

It was a huge relief to only have a ten minute drive, considering how pricey gas was getting. Thankfully there were no new notes hidden in his car today. He goes into auto pilot, pulling into the parking lot and cranking up the window. He gets out, glancing around the area as he does.

He heads in, only thinking about how he regrets skipping breakfast.

“Well ain’t you a sight fer sore eyes!”

Liam almost jumps out of his skin.

It’s his editor, Andy. The man looks perplexed. “Did I scare ya?”

The photographer nods.

“Aw, hell. I’m awful sorry.” The burly man claps a hand on Liam’s shoulder. “I always forget how skittish you are. What brings you in t’day?”

Liam shrugs away from Andy. “Need the archives. I think I might have found a new angle for the Ghosty case.”

Andy hooks a thumb into his belt. “Finally taking steps outta that comfort zone of yers, eh?”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t mean it in a bad way.” His editor clarified. “I’m just noticin’ you leavin’ the dark room more often.”

Liam’s mind has started running through scenarios. He  _ needs _ access to county records. Of course he knows his home paper’s system best. But it’s obvious. If he makes one little slip, they’d easily link it back to him...fuck. Still, he’s already here. “Yeah. Olsen can get a little distracting. Figured I’d get more done if I had a break from him.”

Andy scratches at his beard. “So why here? I’m sure St. Pete woulda let you use their machines.”

“It’s where I feel comfortable?” Liam feels ill. He’s not cut out for this lying shit. “For a Pulitzer winner, Jed’s kinda useless in the grand scheme of things. I figured I’d try to get ahead of things before the next crime. So here I am.”

“You really think they’re gonna strike the bay area again?”

“I’m pretty sure.” The folder in his briefcase feels like a brick. “Ghostface typically hits twice before moving on. It’d be extremely out of character for them to stop now.”

Andy folds his arms. “I just worry about ya, Lee’. I know Tom isn’t concerned, but these big city writers have a habit of chewin’ up their cameramen…”

“I’ll be alright, Andy.” Liam lies. “Anyway, I need to get a move on. It was nice to see you again. Say hi to Chuck for me.”

Before the man could respond, the photographer was already leaving. Thankfully it wasn’t out of character for him. He had trouble knowing how to properly exit a conversation. It was a running joke around the office. If heavy topics arose, Liam was the first to bail.

Thank god for social ineptitude.

He settles into a quiet corner of the archives, booting up the PC. After many long moments, he’s prompted to log in. His hand hovers over the ‘L’ key...that could easily be traced though.

Wait...Jenny, the sports writer, had given him her info about a month ago for safe keeping. He feels guilty but…

**JenHux1012**

**C@77L38U@RD**

The computer accepts it. Liam’s throat tightens as he plucks the papers out. For how much research Danny was known for doing, this seemed like slim pickings.

First name, middle initial, and surname. Then a few photos. Some were minor house details, and the subject’s faces. On the next were addresses’, and a place of work.

Jason’s file notes that he lives alone, on an isolated stretch of road. Brittney is also on her own, but is part of a well lit suburb.

No contact info, however. Definitely intentional. So Liam spends the next few hours...well there’s no other way to put it. He digitally stalks two total strangers. The pit of dread seems to let up worryingly easy. It’s replaced by an odd sort of thrill.

It’s all Danny’s fault. Liam justifies to himself.

By dusk, he’s swamped in a sea of knowledge.

Jason is a rough and tumble outdoorsman. He’s been the number one sharpshooter in Central Florida for the past five years. A gifted hunter, preferring large game. He’s almost fifty, but in phenomenal shape.

While Liam gets his home number, he also puts an ‘x’ by his name.

Brittney was an active member of her community. She was a well loved art teacher at a middle school as of this year. She made the paper a few times on account of helping the local parrot rescue with fostering. From what he can tell, she currently owned a cockatoo. Judging by the noise complaints, it seemed to scream at strangers. Beyond that, she’d be missed instantly.

Still, he scrounges up her various details.

Liam logs off, shutting the machine down. He sits there, listening to the hum of the lights for who knows how long. Quietly, he gathers his things, leaving the building without a word.

He stops at the liquor store on his way home. He picks out a cheap bottle of wine to drown out his conscience. When he gets to his house, it  _ seems _ to be undisturbed. Liam holds little hope that Danny hadn’t been there.

This is confirmed by the time Liam had already downed most of the bottle. An unfamiliar ringing starts up in the bedroom. He sways as he goes to silence it.

There, on his nightstand, is a shiny cellphone.

God  _ damn _ it.

Liam picks it up, hitting the green button. “ _ What _ .”

**_“You look_ ** _ good _ **_when you’re drunk.”_ **

Something in his stomach  _ twists. _ “If you say so.” He deflects.

**_“I could come over...discuss what you found?”_ ** Danny’s modified voice soothes over his nerves.  **_“Keep you company?”_ **

“If you’re tryin’ to talk your way into my pants, just say it.” Liam grumbles.

**_“Oh, I’d_ ** _ love _ **_that, baby. There’s just one issue.”_ **

Liam trips over his feet, flopping onto his mattress. “An’ what’s that?”

**_“You’re wasted.”_ **

“You’re a serial killer. Don’t pretend like y’ don’t take advantage of people.” Liam breathes hard, trying to stop himself from rolling off the bed. “The third one y’ got. She was blackout drunk.”

**_“You’re not wrong.”_ **

They both pause. Then Liam’s impulsiveness gets the better of him. “I wanna see you.”

A soft chuckle is the only warning before the line goes dead. Soon enough, he hears his front door unlock. Steady footsteps grow ever closer. A shadow appears in the hall. A small voice in his head is  _ screaming _ to run. Sadly, it’s choked out by the alcohol. 

“Stop teasin’ me, Danny.” Liam complains.

The Voice that responds is different. Still distorted, but not in the same way.  **“You like it.”** He insists, striding into the room like he owned the place.

_ ‘Fuck. This is a huge mistake. Tell him to  _ **_leave_ ** _!’ _ The rational part of his mind insists.

It goes unheeded as Liam watches Danny shrug out of his heavy coat. He’s wearing a tight undershirt that highlights every dip and curve.

Ghosty laughs.  **“You’re making me blush with that look.”**

“Get over here.” He’s unaware of how desperate he sounds.

The other pauses to kick off his boots before sitting next to Liam.  **“Just remember. No fucking until you’ve sobered up.”**

The bastard’s implying that he’ll be permitted to stay that long. Christ...why had he gotten so plastered? Liam’s head  _ swims _ .

A warm gloved hand wraps around his waist.  **“I’m not opposed to making out, though.”**

“How?” Liam squints. “You’re wearing a fuckin’  _ mask. _ ”

A rustle, and Danny provides a strip of fabric.  **“If that’s what you want, you’ll need this.”**

_ Fuck _ , that went right to his dick. “So what’re you waitin’ for, idiot?”

**“Permission.”**

“For fuck’s sake,  _ yes _ . Hurry up so I can  _ make _ you shut up.” Liam manages to grab the man by the throat.

He might be three sheets to the wind, but he doesn’t miss the way that Danny’s breath hitches. He chooses to not acknowledge that. Before he can grab the blindfold, the killer pulls it away.

**“One more thing, so I don’t forget.”** He sounds amused.  **“I do want to talk about what you found.”**

“Right  _ now _ ?!” Liam balks. “You fuckin’  _ ass _ you promised-”

**“Oh, we’ll get there baby.”** Danny reassures.  **“It’ll give you time to think things over.”**

“ _ Cocktease. _ ” Liam accuses.

**“Oh, but you love it.”** He purrs.  **“Now then-”** Ghosty pries the hand from his neck.  **“Spill what you got out of the archives.”**

Liam gives a frustrated huff, leaning against Danny’s side. “Jason’s gonna be armed. He’s a-...fuck, what do you call it?” He’s not in the right state for this shit.

**“Hunter?”**

“That too. It’s where you go and snipe targets-oh! Sharpshooter!” He inhales deeply at that, startled by the horrible scent of Danny’s cologne. “What the fuck are you wearin’? It smells  _ disgustin’. _ Change it.”

**“Whatever you say.”** Danny curls up around his obsession.  **“Back to the subject.”**

“Right…” Liam tucks his head under the man’s chin. “He’s not got any neighbors, but I think he’s a bad choice. Even if you’ve got some Kevlar, it’s not gonna end well.”

**“You don’t think the two of us can handle one guy?”**

Liam’s brow furrows. “What’s this ‘we’ shit? I’m only gatherin’ intel. You’re the killer, not me.”

**“Whatever helps you sleep at night.”** Danny snorts.  **“What about the broad?”**

“She’ll prompt a bigger investigation. A teacher, so you oughta aim for a long weekend if y’ can.” Liam’s eyes slide shut. He hopes he’s actually dreaming.

A hand pats his cheek.  **“What else, doll?”**

“Uh-..oh! She’s got a bird. Doesn’t like anyone but her. It could draw attention.”

**“Any ideas?”** He gets out a notebook.

“I dunno, drug it- Wait why am I tellin’ you this?” Liam snaps to reality, trying to sit up. 

Danny’s grip goes from gentle, to vice-like.  **“Because it’s fun for you. You’re a problem solver, like me.”**

“No the fuck I am  _ not _ !” Liam tries to hit the man. “Let me go!”

**“Shut your damned mouth or I’ll knock a few teeth out.”** The killer’s voice gains that abrasive edge.  **“You’re involved now, whether you like it or not. Even if you’re not holding the knife, I doubt the courts will care.”**

The tip of a gloved finger grazes over Liam’s lip. Instinct kicks in and he bites down.

Due to his inebriation, the photographer is easily shaken off.

**“Save that for later, babydoll.”** Danny laughs, though it lacks any joy.  **“Now, unless you wanna meet Ol’ Sparky by the end of the year? You’re gonna do what I ask.”**

Liam slumps against the pillows. He’s  _ exhausted. _ “My notes are in the briefcase.”

**“Good boy.”**

“Don’t patronize me.” He threatens half-heartedly.

**“Guess you’re not into praise.”** Danny holds Liam’s chin in his hand.  **“You wanna suck face?”**

“Don’t quote Nightmare at me.” Liam scowls. He really should be fighting tooth and nail with the jackass. Even if he's unable to keep his balance. Still...he kinda does. It’d be a decent distraction, and it’d get the man out of his system...hopefully. “You’d better be incredible.”

**“Just know I won’t be able to talk to you once the mask comes off. And nothing below the waist.”** Danny points out.

“I heard you, but I don’t believe you a damn bit.” Liam scowls. “You practically drool all over me. You want me to believe you won’t rail me because I’m drunk?”

Danny grabs his hair, tugging on it.  **“There’s no point if you’re not in control of yourself. When we have sex? It’ll be because you** **_want_ ** **it. Alcohol is a cheap trick. You understand?”**

It’s...surprising. Honestly, Liam hadn’t expected that. He’s still scrambling for words when Danny adds,

**“Besides, I’d rather** **_you_ ** **be the one on top.”** He slides a palm down Liam’s chest. He retrieves the strip of fabric, tying it around Liam’s eyes.  **“I’m taking the mask off.”**

His head is still spinning when Ghosty kisses him. His stubble scrapes nicely over Liam’s cheek. The rest of the world fades into a low buzz. He doesn’t know how long it’s been. Long enough he figures. Yet, the wine in his system finally catches up to him, and the man passes out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In the words of my beta: "You ever kiss someone so hard that you pass out?"  
> Also if you're not from Florida, we used to have an electric chair that was dubbed Ol' Sparky. If I recall correctly, it executed Bundy.


	7. The Town That Dreaded Sundown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hangovers and dinnerplans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danny gets to play housewife

Liam’s head  _ throbs _ when he wakes up. He groans weakly, throwing a pillow over his head. When he finally peers out from under it, he notices a strip of patterned fabric on his nightstand. 

So last night was real.

Liam sits up, scrubbing at his face. A clatter on the other side of the house scares the shit out of him. He slides out of bed, peeking out of the door.

Danny’s at the stove, looking rather stupid with his mask and gloves. He glances over.  **“Hey, baby. How’s that hangover treating you?”**

...This might as well be happening. “Awful.” He shuffles over, working on getting the coffee pot going. He normally just used it to heat water for tea, but kept a bag for situations like this. “I can barely remember a thing.”

**“We’ll have to do it again. Ideally, when you’re not trying to ruin your liver.”** Danny chuckles.

“Dream on.” Liam elbows him as he moves to get the milk. He pauses. There’s a polaroid taped to the fridge.

It’s of the two of them, curled up in Liam’s bed. Predictably, it’s cropped in such a way that you can only see the killer’s chin. Still, the domestic nature of it strikes him.

**“You like it? You were just too cute. I couldn’t help myself.”** Danny turns off the stove.  **“Grab a bowl.”**

Liam’s nose scrunches up. “I look like a meth head.” He fishes a bowl out of the cupboard, handing it to Ghosty.

**“An adorable one.”** Liam can hear the smile in his voice. The man dumps the contents of the skillet into the dish, passing it back.  **“This oughta fix you right up. Helped me all the time.”**

Liam sets it aside, so he can finish making his drink. Then he takes both, sitting down with the food. “I can’t say I expected you to stick around this long.”

Danny perches on the edge of the table. Liam pointedly tries to ignore how nice the bastard’s arms look.  **“What can I say? I live for the attention. Plus, I still wanted to go over your notes with you. Oh! And I had something else I was gonna ask.”**

Liam gives him a  _ look _ over his meal.

**“When did you start collecting articles about me?”**

His shoulders jump, face going bright red. “Does it matter?”

Danny leans across the table, humming thoughtfully.  **“Not really. I just think it’s interesting that you play so hard to get when you’re sober. Yet, you’ve got a book filled with my work in your darkroom.”**

Smug asshole. “Don’t get your wires crossed. I’m fascinated by the pictures. That doesn’t mean I want  _ you. _ ”

The cackle is so loud it makes Liam’s ears ring.  **“Let me see if I’ve got this one right. You casually flirt with me, call me your boyfriend, hoard my crime photos, asked for one directly, outright** **_begged_ ** **me to ‘rail’ you, and made out with me so thoroughly that you** **_passed out_ ** **. Did I miss anything?”**

“ _ Danny. _ ” Liam starts, voice threatening.

**“** **_What._ ** **”**

“If you don’t shut your  _ fucking _ mouth, you’re gonna wake up with it sewn together.”

Danny leans back.  **“Aww, you’re cute. I do think you’d miss having access to it.”**

Liam tosses his hair out of his eyes. “I can deal with that. It’d be fun to see you get creative.”

The man’s voice goes husky.  **“Keep sweet talking me and see what happens.”**

Liam shakes his head. “Keep your pants on, you horny bitch. What happened to ‘Oh, you’re drunk. I can’t possibly take anything you say seriously until you’re sober?’ You act all high and mighty, then change the rules when it suits you!”

**“I do not.”**

“Bullshit.”

Danny shrugged a shoulder.  **“You played chess when you were younger, right?”**

Liam just stares, raising a brow judgmentally.

**“What happens when a pawn reaches the other side of the board?”**

“It turns into a queen.” The man sips at his coffee. “I understand what you’re saying, but this is real life. Not a board game.”

Danny slides off the table, hooking his thumbs into the waistband of his pants.  **“I think you’re just pissy that I’ve got you in check.”**

“It ain’t over until check _ mate _ , dipshit.”

The killer pets the top of Liam’s head.  **“Then I believe it’s your move. I’ve got some errands to run. I want you to focus on what to use for that damned bird.”**

“Whatever. Just get out of my fucking house.” Liam sneers.

**“I’m giving you four days, babe.”** Ghosty goes to get his jacket.  **“That’s extremely generous, so don’t disappoint me.”**

Liam flips him off as he passes through the kitchen. “I get it. Now  _ leave. _ ”

Danny blows a mock kiss, then vanishes out the back door.

Liam buries his face in his hands. He has to focus on his breathing so he doesn’t get sick. The madman was right. He  _ was _ in check. No matter what he did, he was going to jail if either of them got caught.

He stays there, slumped onto his dining table for ages. Eventually his bladder gets the better of him. He shuffles into the bathroom, glancing in the mirror as he washes his hands.

That  _ bastard _ .

Liam’s neck is littered with hickies. Of  _ course _ Danny liked to leave marks. The photographer drags a thumb over one. He kind of wishes that he hadn’t been so smashed last night. Seems like it had been a good time.

It wasn’t as if Danny was hard to get. All he would need to do is ask nicely.

_ ‘Liam are you hearing yourself?’ _ His inner voice snaps.  _ ‘He’s a killer!’ _

That much was true...but here he was, being an accomplice. 

* * *

Liam ignores his task for two days before breaking. He distracts himself by going over a few WIPs for the Plant City paper, idly chatting with Andy over the phone. He’s a touch surprised that he hasn’t heard anything from Jed. Not even Danny had hit him up.

The third day dawns with a copy of the St. Pete Times being dropped on Liam’s stoop.

Right there, front page above the fold, was one of his photos.

Liam had never seen his work in such a prominent place. Not on a major publication, at least. He knows how exclusive that was.

That’s what happens when you’re working with a big name on a big story…

_ Ring… _

“Oh shit-” Liam scrambles to get his house phone. “Hello?”

_ “Hiya Liam!” _

“Oh, hi Jed.” The timing was...odd. “Been a little while.”

_ “Sorry about that.” _ The journalist titters awkwardly.  _ “The Sun was having a few issues with the Sunday issue.” _

“Why’s that your problem?” Liam wonders.

That seems to throw Jed. He stutters for a second. _ “Th-the article isn’t just in one paper?” _

...Wait a damn minute. “Huh?”

_ “The Sun always gets the first bite of me.” _ He explains.  _ “Part of the contract.” _

“I guess that makes sense. Better than some of the bullshit deals I had at the Miami Herald.”

That gets a bright laugh out of Olsen. He snorts, trying to stifle it.  _ “I’ve heard some horror stories. Anyway-” _

Liam gets a funny feeling.

_ “You, uh...you still up for dinner?” _

Mother  _ fucker _ . “Oh, I’m so sorry! I totally forgot.”

Jed hums to himself.  _ “It’s not your fault. I’ve been pretty scarce too...does that mean we’re on?” _

How to go about this without setting off his stalker? “Sure, just remember that this isn’t a date. Just co-workers.”

_ “Right…” _

Fuck. Liam can tell he’s struck a bad cord. “You’re a nice guy, Jed. But I’m not available, and I don’t want you to get the wrong idea.”

_ “I understand!” _ Is said in a tone of disappointment, in spite of the thin veneer of cheerfulness.  _ “Anyway, here’s what I was thinking-” _

Liam continues to listen, but is distracted when he hears the mobile chime. It’s close enough that he can swipe it off the counter. He sees a short bit of text on the screen.

**he didnt lock his rental last night**

It takes a second for him to figure out how to send a reply.  _ ‘itd be sketchy to decline for no reason’ _

_ “So, sound like a plan?” _ Jed prompts.

Thankfully Liam had listened just enough to get the gist of it. “Yeah. Frenchy’s, six pm. See you then.”

_ “Cool! Stay safe, Liam.” _ He replies.

That was a little strange. “You too. Bye.” He hangs up, glancing at the cell.

_ ‘antifreeze in the watercup. midday best time. watch out for neighbors.’ _

**thx**

The phone is heavy in his hand...dinner oughta be a nice distraction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Both my beta's pointed out that I accidentally mirrored a scene from V for Vendetta. If y'all wanna draw danny in an apron be my guest.


	8. He Knows When You're Alone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The plan moves forward, but something stinks...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey y'all, I just wanted you to know I might be taking a small hiatus. Basically depression hit me hard and I haven't made a ton of progress on the last third of the fic. I appreciate your patience!

Of course Frenchy’s is busy. It always is. At first, Liam finds a sort of comfort in that. Danny is a home invader, he wouldn’t try anything here.

Yet Liam knows he’d be more than willing to hide in plain sight…

He almost hits the person that taps on his shoulder.

“Whoa there, it’s just me!” Jed’s dark eyes are wide. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Fucks sake, he really needs to take a vacation after this. “It’s fine. Let’s get a table.”

They’re tucked into a corner, a half wall to Liam’s back. Jed chatters away, fighting with getting into the crab legs he ordered. That makes the photographer roll his eyes.

“Gimme that.” He takes a fork, holding it up so Jed can see. “Take one of the tines and slide it under the shell. Then just-” He rips through the thinner part of the carapace. “See?”

The tips of Olsen’s ears flush red. “Thanks.” He smiles awkwardly, taking the food back.

Liam tucks into his own, only half listening to Jed. He’s scanning the room, trying to decide which of these people is his problem child.

“-me Liam?”

He blinks. “Huh?”

“I asked if you were listening to me.” The reporter tilts his head.

Liam feels sheepish. “Sorry, I zoned out a little.”

“The Sun asked me to offer you a job.” He smiles. “They’d double your current salary. It’s an awesome paper to work for. They have  _ tons _ of benefits-”

“But I’d have to move, wouldn’t I?” Liam’s brow furrows.

Jed gives him a funny look. “Yeah, but Gainesville is really nice!” He scratches at a small mark on his chin. Looks like a nick from shaving. “You can’t  _ actually _ want to live here for the rest of your life.”

“ _ Jed. _ ” His voice gains that dangerous edge he associates with Ghosty.

The reporter freezes. “S-sorry?”

“I’d have to talk to Danny, for one. Beyond that, you act like relocation is some simple thing. It’s exhausting.” Liam is as firm as he can be. Hopefully this’ll get through Jed’s thick fucking skull. “Besides, you’re a talented shutterbug. You don’t  _ need _ me.”

Jed huffs, finishing his food. “This isn’t exactly the best place for an argument…”

Liam scowls, rolling his eyes. He waves down the waiter. Before he can ask to separate the bill, Jed hands her a shiny card.

He notices Liam about to protest and holds up his hands. “Whoever gets the payment out first. That’s my rule.”

Honestly, it’s more effort than it’s worth to argue with the man. Liam gets up to wait outside. He hadn’t had the urge to smoke since he quit two years ago, yet...this month had been  _ testing _ his nerves.

Jed catches up with him. “Thanks for waiting. Let’s go somewhere quiet.”

Liam lets the reporter trot ahead. He tries to pay attention, really he does. He’s just worried about his stalker getting his panties in a twist.

So he doesn’t notice when Jed stops short.

Liam smacks into him, jolting back. That’s when he catches a whiff of something  _ very _ familiar. A sharp, almost acetone smell. It sticks in his nose, making it scrunch up.

It was nearly identical to Danny’s.

He can’t jump to conclusions. “Hey. Not to be rude, but did you spill something on your clothes?”

Jed  _ freezes. _ “Huh?”

“You smell like a nail salon.” Liam shoves his hands in his pockets. The energy shifts. It makes him regret asking.

The reporter makes a face. “Oh, it’s just cologne. Is it really that bad?”

Liam glances away. “It’s not terribly flattering.” He decides to not sling accusations...even though he really wants to. “What’s it called?”

“Spitfyre, with a ‘y’.” Jed fidgets uncomfortably. “Anyway, are you  _ sure _ you don’t wanna take the job?”

Liam is so fucking sick of hearing about this damned thing. “If you want me to answer right now, it’s  _ no _ . You need to give me like...a week to think about this. Got it?”

Jed sighs. “Alright. You oughta keep an eye out for your check. You’ll call me if you need anything, right?”

Liam nods. “Yeah. Sorry if I upset you.”

The man smiles, though it feels hollow. “Nah, it’s fine. I know I can be...stubborn. I’ll talk to you later. Bye.” With that, he walks off.

Liam hesitates. He’s not sure what to do with this new knowledge. The sky picks that moment to open. Damn, of all the days for him to forget his umbrella…

* * *

Another few days with no contact.

Jed was right about the payment showing up. It was good. Real good. Enough that Liam considers taking himself out for a nice dinner. While he’s trying to pick a place, his cell rings. He snorts, annoyed. “You always call at the worst times.” He says after picking up.

**_“Sorry, baby.”_ ** The killer replies, not sounding remorseful at all.  **_“There a reason you didn’t take the Sun’s offer?”_ **

What? “I thought you didn’t want me around Olsen any more than I had to be?” Liam reminds him.

**_“I suppose.”_ ** Danny admits.  **_“The bird’s taken care of, by the way. Good work, love.”_ **

_ Shit. _

**_“You sure you don’t wanna come?”_ ** The man could have been talking about a movie. That’s how casual his tone was.  **_“I’d make sure you had an_ ** _ amazing _ **_time~”_ **

“Are we still talking about murder?” Liam deflects. “Because you’re making this sound like a...personal call.”

**_“Why not both?”_ ** Danny chuckles.  **_“It’s always better after a kill.”_ **

Jesus  _ christ. _

**_“You’d look incredible. I can see it now. Blood making your shirt stick to your chest? I couldn’t help but peel it off you…”_ **

Liam is  _ bright _ red. “I’m not getting involved.” He insists.

**_“Oh, you will.”_ **

“Don’t be so sure.” He warns.

**_“Maybe not this time.”_ ** Danny admits.  **_“But soon enough you’ll be right there with me.”_ **

He’s getting too close to losing his king. Liam can’t allow that. “...Danny?”

**_“Yeah, doll?”_ **

“That nasty cologne of yours. Is it called Spitfyre?”

A small pause.  **_“No.”_ ** He snaps, then reels back his sudden anger.  **_“It’s ‘Winning Streak’.”_ **

Liam doesn’t believe him. “Okay.”

**_“Well then...if you’re certain you don’t want to tag along…”_ **

“I’m sure.” Liam confirms.

**_“You’ll still want your special photo, right~?”_ ** Danny singsongs.

“That’s up to you.” The photographer snorts dismissively.

A dark, velvety laugh.  **_“Alright, baby. I’ll get you something nice. I love you Liam.”_ **

“Whatever.” He drags a hand through his hair. “Don’t get caught.”

**_“I never do. Talk soon.”_ **

The line goes dead. Liam swallows thickly. Even if his suspicion about the fragrance was correct, what of it? They could both own it...this whole situation was just making him paranoid. He was seeing patterns that were questionable at best…

He needed more proof.

* * *

His work phone rings frantically a week later. Liam picks it up, and before he can ask who it is, Jed’s voice excitably announces.

_ “Liam, they struck again!” _

He knows. He was waiting for this. Liam grabs his camera. “Where’s the conference?”

_ “The Tampa train station. See you there!” _ The reporter hangs up.

For the first time in a while, Liam finds a...gift in his car. A picture of the victim, obviously deceased and stuffed into a large birdcage.

**Together in Death~** **_♥_ ** Is the caption.

Liam quickly stashes it under his cassette tapes. The drive goes smoothly until seven miles from the destination. The traffic gets so thick that he has to park stupidly far away. He gets out and runs the rest of the way.

Jed lights up when he spots Liam. “Hey, what took you?”

“No available spots.” He shrugs. “Let’s go.”

“Sure. C’mon.” Jed grabs his hand. Liam’s startled by the series of bandages covering the man’s knuckles.

“What the hell happened?” He squints, tugging his hand away.

“Hm? Oh, I just slipped while prepping dinner.” Jed admits sheepishly. “Camera up, they’ll be out soon.”

Liam can’t say he buys that. He just stashes that, like all the other strange observations, in the back of his mind. He takes off his lens cap, focusing on his job.

The police chief looks shaken. He goes over the details that Liam knew would be there.

“I will  _ personally _ ensure this monster is stopped.” The man guarantees. “My niece will  _ not _ die for nothing.”

It’s heart-stopping.

After the conference, Jed is clucking like a hen. “Holy  _ hell _ he was pissed! I hope you got some good angles of his face when he was threatening Ghosty.”

The void in his chest widens. “I got it all.”

Jed grins. “Awesome! You wanna swing through Starbucks?”

“No.” Liam steadies himself. “I’m gonna head back and develop these.”

The reporter seems confused. “Really?”

He nods. “Yeah. If you get a chance to corner one of them, ask why they haven’t given us the name of the previous stiff. It’s gotta be important.”

Jed stammers. “Y-yeah, I will. Thanks for coming on such short notice.”

“No problem.” He says before heading back to his car. He takes deep breaths, shaking out the jitters. He starts the vehicle, electing to take the long route home. He anticipated the call that would be waiting for him once he got home, and didn’t fancy dealing with it.

Still...he doesn’t want to  _ totally _ waste his gas. The mobile is ringing before he can get in. He grabs it, voice terse. “Did you really have to put her in the cage?”

**_“I’m a fan of the random body mess around.”_ **

Liam drums his fingers on the counter. “You didn’t mention she was related to the chief.”

**_“That’s your fault. You’re the researcher.”_ ** Danny taunts.  **_“It’s_ ** _ your _ **_job. I’m the stabby one.”_ **

“So what, you’re not gonna do  _ any _ background checks anymore?” Liam is taken aback. This was totally out of character for the killer.

**_“If you’re not gonna have your boots on the ground, it’s only fair.”_ ** He pauses, yawning loudly.  **_“Fifty fifty can mean many things.”_ **

“ _ Fine. _ ” Liam blows his hair from his eyes. “What now?”

**_“I’m thinking we oughta have a movie night!”_ **

“... _Excuse_ me?” Liam is dumbstruck.

**_“What, like you don’t wanna celebrate? I certainly want to. So here’s what I had in mind.”_ ** Danny starts.  **_“I’ll grab some tapes from Blockbuster, you make the popcorn, and we have a nice quiet night in?”_ **

This man had just folded a woman into a cage and he’s talking about a casual date. 

**_“Any specific requests?”_ **

He gets the feeling that the fucker was gonna visit regardless of what Liam said. “No porn. Other than that, I don’t care.”

There’s a delighted snicker.  **_“Great! See you soon, baby.”_ **

The house is quiet, save for the insects in the surrounding wood. Frankly Liam has nothing better to do, so he keeps busy by tidying up the place. He must look like some edgy housewife with his mohawk and scruffy clothes.

The backdoor unlocks a half hour later. Liam raises a brow when he sees the shopping bags slung over Danny’s arm. Each brimming with junk food or video tapes.  **“Hey, Liam.”** He greets.

“Hi.” Liam takes some of the bags from him. “There’s enough shit here for ten people.”

**“You have a pantry, don’t you?”** Danny sets the rest of it on the counter.  **“Here.”** He prompts before handing Liam a thing of Jiffy Pop.

These things always remind him of camping. They’re still good, though. Liam turns on the stove before peeling the protective cardboard off the container. He sets it onto the burner, listening to the oil sizzle. The first pop startles him, as it always does.

He pointedly ignores the way Danny laughs at him.

In a few minutes, the flat package has ballooned into a shiny dome. Liam turns the stove off, tearing into the foil. For some stupid reason he does this with his bare hands. With a sharp hiss, he whips his scaled fingers away.

The killer is there in a flash.  **“What happened?”**

“Nothing.” Liam shrinks away. “I’m fine.”

**“Don’t lie over trivial shit like that.”** He catches the photographer by the wrist.  **“Let me see.”**

Liam glares at the floor when he notices it. 

Danny’s gloves don’t match.

His heart rate spikes. Does he ask? Or should he file it away with the other observations?

**“I can** **_hear_ ** **you thinking, baby.”** Danny tilts his head.  **“Wanna share with me?”**

“...” He exhales sharply. “What happened to your other glove?”

**“What do you think, genius?”** The man teases.  **“I think the blade glanced off the broad’s sternum. I really oughta start buying these in bulk. I look like a total slob with this old tattered one.”**

“You’re  _ fine _ , you vain little shit.” Liam chews on his lip. “Aren’t you worried about DNA?”

**“I’d have to slip up at my ‘day job’. Even if they get it, they’d need a sample to compare it to.”** He runs a thumb over Liam’s sore knuckles.

“...Right.” The photographer snorts.

**“Anyway, just be careful to keep the blisters clean.”** Danny casually leans against Liam, resting his chin on the man’s shoulder. It’s frighteningly domestic.  **“Want me to lend a hand with your press photos?”**

Liam shrugs him off. “Maybe later. You said we were doing movies.”

Danny brightens up, or at least Liam thinks he does. He trots over to the TV, fussing with the tape player for a moment. He slots a VHS in, making an annoyed sound.  **“Some asshole at the store didn’t rewind this.”**

Liam doesn’t respond, finding a large bowl to dump the popcorn into. He tucks it into the crook of his arm, shuffling into the living room. “So what are we watching?”

Danny’s taking off his jacket, tossing it over the arm of the couch.  **“The first two Halloween movies. I also grabbed a handful of the Friday films if you want.”**

Liam flops onto the lumpy sofa. “Fine by me.”

Danny grabs the remote, settling against Liam.  **“Now I might pop the mask up a bit to eat.”** He explains.  **“But don’t get any ideas.”**

He decides to poke the bear, so to speak. “What, you  _ don’t _ want me to get frisky with you?” Liam teases, plucking at the man’s undershirt on impulse. “I can’t say I believe that, considering how many  _ hickies _ you lef-”

Ghosty interrupts, his voice has a subtle quiver to it.  **“You’re sending a** **_lot_ ** **of mixed signals, babe.”**

So maybe he gets off on needling the serial killer a  _ bit _ too much. Liam can’t help it. Making the man  _ squirm _ gave him a sense of control. “Then figure out how to unscramble them.” He sits up, leaning over Danny. He cages the other between his arms. “I’m just as cryptic as you are, Mr. You-Can’t-See-My-Face.”

**“** **_Liam._ ** **”**

He purposefully wraps a hand around Danny’s throat. “You’ve  _ ruined _ my future. I think I’m entitled to know what you look like.” He smirks, flexing his fingers.

The strike is so swift that Liam doesn’t quite realize what happened. When the stars clear from his vision, their positions have swapped. Danny’s breathing is erratic.  **“No cheating. If you wanna know, figure it out. Now shut up and watch the movie.”**

Well damn. Liam thought he’d cave...he huffs, leaning against the side. Every time he thinks he’s got the fucker, Danny moves his king.

Both in perpetual check.

Halfway through the first film, Danny has nestled up to the photographer again. He idly plays with a tear in Liam’s jeans. As much as he hated to admit it, he’s truly enjoying himself. Well...as much as the situation allows.

His chest still feels like a gaping wound...but it’s not as bad as it is around the rest of the world.

* * *

**“Hey, baby.”**

Liam snorts, jolting up. “Wazzit?”

**“I’ve just been thinking.”** Danny laces his fingers together.  **“That bitch was a bit riskier than we planned for, right?”**

He scrubs at his eyes. “Yeah. So what?”

**“We need to move.”**

He’s too tired to be making rational decisions. “...I mean, if you think it’s best?” Liam yawns.

Danny shifts, getting up.  **“Finish up your photos and get them to Jed. We’ll leave after that.”**

“Alright-” His mind finally catches up to him. “Wait, what?” He shakes off the mental cobwebs.

**“If you don’t want to get arrested by the angriest uncle, you’ll play along.”** The killer drags him off the sofa.  **“Darkroom. Now.”**

“ _ Fine, _ fucks sake.” He scowls. “Come help.”

Danny shakes his head.  **“I need to handle some loose ends. I’ll be back in a few days. Make sure that dumbass reporter won’t try to figure out where you're going.”**

Now Liam is outright pissed. “ _ I get it. _ What’s your big hang up with Jed?” He tests the waters.

Danny pauses as he pulls on his coat.  **“I don’t like it when people touch my things.”**

Liam stops at the door to his studio. “I’m not yours.”

**“You most certainly are.”** Danny snaps back.  **“I’m leaving. Call me when you’re ready to go. Pack for...a week. If it’s important, bring it.”**

He’s already storming off before Liam can argue. What the hell had spooked him so bad? It doesn’t really matter at the end of the day. He throws himself into his work, trying to ignore how much he had played into Ghosty’s hands.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Any theories on what state we're going to next?


	9. My Bloody Valentine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time for a roadtrip!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're back on track fam! Fun fact, the route they're taking used to be what I took to college in Georgia.

_ Jed _

_ I hate to do this, but my mother had a stroke. I’m going to move out of state to help take care of her. Here’s the copies from the latest conference. Thank you for giving me the opportunity. Hopefully our paths will cross again. _

_ Liam Shelley _

He shoves the manila envelope into Jed’s mail slot around one in the morning. The photographer doesn’t take any chances, booking it back to his car.

A good call, judging by how a light flicks on as he takes off. The void in his chest grows wider by the hour. 

Liam had mindlessly done as instructed. He packs his documents first, followed by his spare film. Then he picks outfits at random, rolling them into tight bundles. They become a tidy nest for his camera. His toiletries can go into a grocery bag, no big deal there. You’d think he was taking a trip to Disneyworld. Until he remembers his filing cabinet.

The case evidence.

Without thinking, he grabs his cell. It takes a worrying amount of calls to get through.

When Ghosty  _ does _ pick up, he’s out of breath.  **_“What do you want?”_ ** He seems aggravated.

“What crawled up your ass, jesus.” Liam doesn’t bother waiting for an answer. “All this shit you left me. How am I storing it? I’d assume we aren’t flying.”

**_“Don’t be fucking stupid.”_ ** Danny chastises.  **_“We’re driving. If you want to keep it, make sure it’s under everything you packed...or bring that cash box with you. The pink one?”_ **

Liam pulls it off the dusty shelf it lives on. “Okay.”

**_“If you don’t need it, torch it.”_ ** He instructs.  **_“I gotta go. Don’t call me. I’ll get you when I ‘m finished on my end.”_ **

The line goes dead.

What the fuck? Something must be going pear shaped. Hadn’t  _ he _ been the one to ask Liam to call if he needed help? He’d never heard the man so stressed out. It doesn’t really matter though. The photographer goes to his cabinet, opening it.

He quietly transfers all the damning items into his small lockbox. He used to take it to street markets, before he’d gotten his current job. It’s perfect to fit the photos, the clippings, the notes, and  _ especially _ the tape. He has to tuck the voice changer in an inner pocket of his duffle.

Now he just had to wait on Danny.

* * *

He’s not sure why he expected to be contacted in a few hours. Liam doesn’t hear a damn thing until midnight two days later.

The mobile startles him into dropping his coffee. He shakes the liquid from his already sore hand. He flips it open irritably. “What?”

**_“I’m outside, let’s go.”_ **

Liam doesn’t need to be told twice. He does a final sweep of his home, then gets his bags. He doesn’t bother locking up. 

The car is extremely normal looking. Not that surprising, seeing as they were meant to be blending in. As Liam opens the door, he’s a bit amused to find Danny decked out in full ranch hand fashion. Bandanna, sunglasses, cowboy hat, flannel, and overalls.

He can’t quite suppress a laugh.

**“Shut up.”**

Liam tosses his shit into the backseat, then settles in. “You honestly can’t expect me to take you seriously.”

**“Then you’d better hurry up and figure out who I am.”** Danny snaps, pulling away from the house.

“I will.” Liam promises him. “I’ve already got an idea in mind.”

**“Oh?”** Danny merges onto the freeway.  **“Wanna share with the class?”**

He shakes his head. “I need to gather a bit more info. I don’t want to give you a chance to cover your bases if I’m wrong.”

Danny reaches over, pinching Liam’s cheek.  **“Atta boy.”**

Liam smacks his hand away. “I told you not to patronize me.” He grumbles. “At some point, I’d like to get a coffee. You made me drop mine.”

**“You must be totally out of it if you’re drinking that. We’ll stop when we hit Ocala. Sound fair?”**

“I guess so.” Liam stretches, his back popping. “So what happens when my bills roll in?”

**“Taken care of. I’ve got a new alias set up for you as well.”**

_ That’s _ why he was so annoyed. “Everything?” He asks, mostly for confirmation. 

**“Down to the last bar tab.”** He nods.  **“I hope you like the name Peter King.”**

His nose scrunches. “Sounds like a pretentious asshole.”

**“Deal with it.”** Danny chortles.

“So where are we even going?” Liam stares at the light posts as they slip by.

**“Tennessee, for now.”**

Liam makes a face. “You’re  _ really _ freaked out, huh?”

**“I’d feel better if we both worked each job.”** While his wrap around shades prevent any confirmation, Liam can feel his judgmental glare.

“Now what do you possibly need me for in the field?” Liam snorts. “You were doing just fine before I came along.”

Danny rests a free hand on the center console.  **“It’d be good to have another person to help. Another set of eyes? One on the phone while the other gets into the place. Make it seem like we teleport, like Jason Voorhees.”**

“You and your damned movies.” He reacts on instinct. “...I wouldn’t mind being on the phone. It’s the stabbing I’m not keen on.”

**“You’ll get there eventually.”** Danny insists.  **“I have a mask for you, but the outfit…”**

“It’s almost Halloween, I’ll figure it out.” Liam shrugs. “We can stop at the Walmart in Waldo. They wouldn’t question this whole...outfit of yours.”

Danny gives an irritated tsk.  **“I did what I could.”**

“Sure you did.” He chuckles. The hole in his chest isn’t so painful today. It makes him feel more put together than before. “Do you have any music in this thing?”

**“You can fuck around with the radio if you want.”**

Liam does just that, eventually settling on a soft rock station. The pair lapse into silence for the hour and a half it takes to arrive in Ocala.

Liam glances at the exit sign as it wizzes by. “You know, you could probably take off the glasses.” Before Danny can make a fuss, he explains. “It’s gonna seem super suspicious if you’re wearing shades at night.”

The killer’s grip on the steering wheel tightens. He silently pulls over.  **“You drive then. They stay on. If someone asks,** **_lie._ ** **You’re good at it.”**

“You are so  _ dramatic. _ ” Liam cracks his knuckles, making his way to the drivers side. He barely has to adjust the seat. That’s...interesting. He remembers that Danny is at least half a foot taller than himself. Just another piece for the puzzle.

That’ll have to wait. Liam follows the road signs to a twenty four hour drive through. “What do you want?”

**“Three large coffees and a cinnamon roll.”**

“Your heart’s gonna explode.” Liam snarks, though it doesn’t seem to bother Danny. He pulls into the lane, ordering. He pays with cash.

The twenty something working the window gives the pair a  _ look _ , but doesn’t address them. She hands Liam his change, followed by their food and drinks.

Liam thanks her, then drives off. “I’m gonna try to stick to 301 as much as I can.”

**“I figured, since you mentioned Waldo.”** Danny takes off the lids of his cups, systematically dumping each into a thermos.  **“Tons of speed traps, though.”**

Liam rolls his eyes. “Well we won’t speed then, will we?”

**“That’s on you.”** Danny plucks a metal straw from the glove box, setting it into his drink. He tucks it under the bandanna, sipping. He flinches, making a disgusted sound.  **“That’s fucking awful.”**

The photographer sighs, tasting his. Oh christ, the bastard wasn’t lying. It’s horribly bitter and watery. Borderline undrinkable. Liam pointedly ignores that Danny is laughing at him. “As long as it’s caffeinated, I don’t care.”

**“Liar.”** Danny accuses playfully.  **“It’s funny to see you without a cup of tea.”**

He shakes his head. “Needed something with a bit more kick.”

**“Guess so.”** The man gets back into the glove box, finding a box of sugar packets.  **“You want some?”**

“No. I’m not big on sweet coffee.”

**“Weirdo.”** Danny snickers. He doctors his go juice, shaking the thermos.

Liam decides to stay quiet, not interested in justifying himself over something so dumb. Besides, he’s busy driving.

Danny regularly points out mindless drivel as the hours slip away. While he’d deny it, Liam actually finds this nice. It prevents him from drifting off at bad times.

At some point, a fucking asshole cuts them off. Liam slams on the breaks with inches to spare. He’s too shaken to scream at the fucker, just staring as they drive off. His heart is hammering in his chest when he feels a hand on his shoulder.

**“You need me to take over, baby?”** Danny asks, voice gentle.

Liam nods, pulling into a gas station. They swap seats, allowing the photographer to focus on steadying his nerves.

Danny speaks softly after that. What he’s saying, however, is another thing entirely.  **“I bet he doesn’t check his back seat before getting in. It’d be so easy to teach him a lesson. You wanna take a detour?”**

“No.” Liam pushes the seat back so he can rest a bit. “Too many unnecessary risks...Hey, can I ask you something?”

**“Of course you can.”**

It’s been eating at him ever since the killer first said it. “Do you  _ actually _ love me?”

**“Yes?”** The man seems annoyed.  **“I told you as much.”**

“Folks say a lot of shit they don’t mean.” Liam folds his arms, glaring at the blurry landscape. “You’re especially bad about it.”

**“I lie to targets.”** Danny puts a hand on Liam’s thigh.  **“Not partners.”**

Liam gives him a  _ look _ . “We’ll see about that.”

The man squeezes his leg.  **“I suppose we will.”**

The two fall quiet after that. While he might not fully trust Danny, Liam doesn’t make any move to remove his hand.


	10. The Lost Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cool fall air and sharp glass shards

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting ever closer to the end!

At some point, Liam had fallen asleep. He’s brought back to the waking world by the smell of cooked meat. He blinks against the harsh sunlight.

**“You must’ve really been out of it.”**

Liam glances over at Danny. “What?”

They’re in some parking lot. The man has pushed his seat back, tucking some french fries under his bandanna.  **“You’ve been out cold for ages.”**

Jesus fuck. Liam scrubs at his eyes. “Are you pulling a prank on me or something?”

**“Nope.”** Danny snorts.  **“We’re about fifteen minutes from our new rental.”**

The photographer eyes his empty coffee cup. “Did the bitch give me decaf? I oughta be wired…”

**“Doubtful. Everyone processes caffeine differently.”** He brushes salt off of his hands.  **“I swung through Walmart while you were zonked. Got you some options to pick through.”**

Liam’s nose scrunches reflexively. He watches Danny fish a bag out of the back seat. “Do I have to decide right now?”

The plastic crinkles when it’s dropped into his lap.  **“Not exactly.”** He fixes his seat up, starting the car.

Liam gives an exaggerated eye roll. With little else to do, he rifles through the contents. The presence of an electric razor throws him. “Are you cutting your hair?”

Danny barks out a laugh.  **“It’s not for me, baby.”**

...Oh  _ hell _ no. “Try me. See what happens.”

He can feel the killer glaring.  **“It’ll grow back. Stop being a little bitch. It’ll match your I.D. better.”**

Liam had totally forgotten about his new card. He struggles to fish out his wallet while balancing the shopping. Sure enough, the picture had a well edited buzzcut. “You  _ really _ have too much time on your hands...Fine, I’ll play along.” It’s not worth the fight.

**“Good boy.”**

“Would you  _ stop _ that?” Liam snaps. “Call me whatever else you want, but do  _ not _ treat me like a dog. Or a kid. It makes me feel like you don’t actually view me as an equal.”

Danny stutters, trying to protest.

“Shut up and listen to me.” Liam continues. “I’m aware that you  _ said _ you respect me. Your actions show otherwise. Call me baby, sweetheart, love, or doll. I don’t care. My only rule is that you are  _ not _ allowed to talk down to me. Got it?”

The man seems stunned. He nods meekly.

“Honestly, it feels like you’re projecting your kinks onto me.” Liam tosses out, not really meaning it.

Danny’s grip on the wheel tightens.

...Interesting.

Liam elects to not press that button. He’d pull it out when the fucker least expected it.

Once Ghosty finds his voice again, it’s the slightest bit strained.  **“N-now that you got that out of your system. I’m gonna have you check us into the place. Remember, you’re Peter King. There’s a blue card in your billfold. Put everything on that.”**

“What about cash?” Liam wonders.

**“That’s fine too.”** Danny confirms. He pulls into a lot surrounded by gnarled oaks.  **“Go on...and don’t forget to smile!”**

He gives the man a dirty look. “Hang on.” Liam unbuckles, fishing out his makeup bag.

**“What’re you doing?”** Danny turns off the sedan.

Liam brushes on his foundation, using the mirror in the sun visor. “The scars are easily identifiable. Better to stack the deck in our favor, right?”

The killer pauses. When he speaks, his tone is that of a proud parent.  **“Now you’re using your head. Take however long you need, baby.”**

It doesn’t take too much time. Liam was more than used to this by now. He angles his head to ensure that everything is blended properly. “Alright. Back in a few.”

The door slams behind him. It’s colder than he’d anticipated. This spurs him to trot across the blacktop, shoes crunching through the dried leaves. The office is clearly indicated by a neon sign. The thing flickers pathetically. The doorknob is like ice in his palm.

It swings open with ease. A cheerful bell announces his arrival to the woman behind the counter. She’s quite old, her mousy gray hair pulled back into a bun. Her grin is bright and genuine.

“Howdy there.” She greets. “Welcome to the Abercorn Lodge. What’s the name for the reservation?”

Liam leans into his slight southern accent. “Peter King, ma’am.”

She nods, slipping on a pair of reading glasses. It feels like it takes forever before she finds it. “Ahah! There you are, honey. Are you still not certain of how long you’ll be staying?”

Liam shakes his head. “Not yet, ma’am. I’ll let you know once I get a better idea of my schedule.”

She smiles kindly. “Alright, hon. How many keys will you be needing?”

“Two, please.” He slides his new card across the counter.

The hostess sets it into an old card imprinter, the distinctive ‘ _ kachunk _ ’ echoing in the lobby. She double checks that the numbers have transferred. Seemingly satisfied, she gives it back. As she goes to get the keys, the woman is making a few self deprecating comments.

“I know it’s old fashioned.” She starts. “I tried, but I just can’t figure out these complicated new gadgets...my son bought me a nice electronic one. I had to give up, I got so frustrated.”

Liam pauses. She probably has useful info on the local area. “Well, since I’m gonna be here for a while, I could lend a hand. I’m pretty handy with technology…”

She looks surprised. “Oh, sugar, I can’t do that to you. You’re my guest!”

Liam breaks out a warm smile. He mimics the tone that Danny uses. The one that soothes his frayed nerves. “I insist! It’ll be good practice too.”

“I don’t want to inconvenience you…” She says, but her words lack conviction.

He puts on as much charm as he can. “Nonsense. It would be my pleasure, ma’am.”

That seems to do the trick. “Well, I guess that’s alright...does noon tomorrow work for you?”

Liam nods. “Yes, ma’am.”

She hands him the keys. “Sounds like a plan. I’m Ms. Craven. You’re staying in unit 237.”

He takes them. “Okay then. See you tomorrow, Ms. Craven.” Liam ducks out, feeling quite pleased with himself.

Danny picks up on it when he gets back into the car.  **“What did you do?”** He pry's, suspicious.

“I made a new friend. The old bat needs a hand setting up some tech.” Liam passes him one of the keys. “I’m gonna try to ask about things the locals know. It couldn’t hurt, right?”

Without warning, Danny reaches over to grab Liam. He pulls him close, pressing a kiss to the other’s temple. The sound is muffled by the bandanna.  **“You’re a natural, baby.”**

Liam shrugs him off. “Whatever. She said we’re in 237.”

It takes a bit for the two to locate the cabin. It’s tucked deep into the tree line, away from all the others. Liam wonders aloud. “Did you get to pick which one you wanted?”

**“Not exactly.”** He starts.  **“I asked for ours to be away from the main hub. Since ‘We come and go a lot’. Told the old fart I didn’t want to bother the other guests.”**

“Her name is Ms. Craven.”

**“Don’t give a shit.”** Danny parks, getting out. He stretches with an over dramatic groan.

Liam scowls, slamming the door. “Behave yourself and be polite.”

Danny opens the room, walking in.

The photographer pops the trunk, unloading it. One of Ghosty’s bags catches on something. Liam isn’t phased by this, yanking on it with little concern.

The sound of glass shattering startles the hell out of him.

**“What the fuck was that?!”** Danny shouts.

“Not sure.” Liam responds. “Something fell out of your duffle!” He crouches to get a better look.

There, glinting in the dappled sunlight, were the remains of a cologne bottle. The label is mostly intact, making it easy to read.

_ Spitfyre. _

Danny grabs his shoulder, grip like a vice.  **“Liam-”**

“I don’t want to talk out here.” He interjects. “Help me get the rest of this in, alright?”

The killer doesn’t respond, but he gets the remaining bags. The trunk shuts loudly. The two wrangle their things inside.

The tension is thick, like a waterlogged wool blanket. It hangs heavy, sticking Liam’s mouth shut. He silently unpacks, hyper aware of the fact that Danny was watching him like a hawk.

Could he risk going for the man’s king?

Technically...yes. His hunch was more than likely correct. Danny and Jed were the same person. The only issue was the admittedly slim possibility that he was wrong. There was a chance that they were just working together. If that was the case, he couldn’t do it. It would just result in the other jumping him.

Liam decides against it. Other than keeping himself safe, it could be more fun to give Danny time to squirm. He turns to find the sectioned off bedroom. This leads to an aggravating discovery. 

“Danny.” He snaps.

**“What?”**

“Why is there only one bed?”

A raspy chuckle.  **“Do I really need to explain it to you?”**

“Bastard.”

The man walks in behind him, settling a hand on Liam’s waist.  **“You know you love me.”** He pulls the photographer close.

The gesture is strangely domestic. Like in movies, when a married couple finishes a difficult project. The particular pose that’s used in many romcom advertisements. Liam wants to lean away.

Truly he does…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Danny: 👁👄👁  
> Liam: 👀


	11. Society

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Computers and chess...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, how are y'all doing?

Liam’s boots pick up bits of glass when he goes to help Ms. Craven the next day. They crunch loudly, the sound a reminder of yesterday’s events. He couldn’t get distracted, however. Today was about gathering intel.

He ducks into the main office, glancing around.

The old woman was humming to herself, looking up at the chime of the door. She smiles brightly. “Afternoon, Pete.”

Liam mirrors her expression, waving. “Hey, Ms. Craven.”

She motions for him to join her. “There’s no need to waste time, sugar.”

He pushes by the partition, feeling like an overgrown weed compared to her. “I’ll be as quick as I can.” He proceeds to dig into the guts of her old ass PC, appalled by the thick blanket of dust choking the ventilation. After taking care of that, he leans the hub out so he can plug in the new card reader.

Eventually, everything seems to be working properly. With that, he emerges from beneath the desk. He runs a few tests on the machine, finding it in perfect shape.

Ms. Craven has reappeared with two cups. “How’s it going?”

“You’re right on time, ma’am.” Liam smiles. “I’ve got everything set, and dusted out your computer.”

She seems embarrassed at that. “Oh, bless you. These knees don’t bend like they used to. It’s a struggle to keep that mess of wires spick and span. Do you like sweet tea?”

“As much as any self respecting southerner should.”

The woman holds up one of the mugs. “I figured you might have gotten a bit thirsty.”

Liam accepts it, taking a sip.

“I hope it’s alright…”

“It’s delicious.” He lies. The swill is horrid, overloaded with sugar. It’s practically liquid hard candy. “I left a note with the manufacturer's contact information. This way you can get ahold of them if something breaks.”

Ms. Craven looks relieved. “Thank you for all the help, honey. If there’s anything I can do for you, don’t hesitate to ask.”

Bingo. “Actually, I was wondering if I could get a hand with any local recommendations.”

She seems surprised. “Oh, absolutely. Anything in particular?”

“Yeah, a few. Is there a really good library you like? Also, any coffee shops?” He retrieves the pen he keeps in his pocket, along with a small notebook.

The hotel owner dutifully gives him what he’s after, plus a nice map of the downtown area. “Oh, and one more thing?” She pipes up as he’s about to leave.

God damnit. “What’s up?”

“You’re a reporter from Florida, right?” She wonders innocently. “I mean, your co-worker mentioned it over the phone.”

Liam is going to _strangle_ Danny. “Indeed I am.”

“What’s going on with that killer?” There’s a spark of fear in her gaze. “Are the police even trying?”

“As far as I can tell, yes.” He nods. “The trouble is that they seem to be striking randomly. That makes it more difficult to track them down.”

“Now, you don’t suppose he’ll cross state lines...do you?” She wrings the cuffs of her wool jumper. “Should I be worried?”

There it is. “Not sure...they move around enough that it’s not _totally_ out of the question...I really oughta get going.”

She ducks her head, sheepish. “Of course, sugar. Sorry about the hold up.”

“No worries, Ms. Craven.” He maintains a gentle expression. “You have a nice day.” The second the door shuts behind him, his face drops into a scowl. If Danny wasn’t busy playing his games, _he_ could deal with people.

Oh well. Liam got what he was after.

* * *

When the photographer had shared his new intel with Danny, the killer was _beaming_ with pride. He’d held Liam’s face, stroking his cheeks. He’d hugged him tightly, eventually having to be pushed off.

He wouldn’t dare breathe a word of it, but Liam was equally pleased with himself. While he was certainly no journalist, he still got the satisfaction of figuring out what everything meant. If he was being blunt, the illegality of why he needed the information heightened the thrill.

In a word? He was getting addicted to this.

Liam’s not certain he can go back at this point. Even if he got off scot free, he’d gotten a taste for it…

What would it feel like to go all the way?

Liam’s brow knits when he realizes how far his mind was wandering. He wasn’t a killer. He _couldn’t_ be thinking about this shit. He was a glorified hostage. He _had_ to be. If he caved, he would just be confirming all the _lies_ Danny had been feeding him.

Liam’s not exactly a good person. He’s come to terms with that. That being said, he’s no monster.

He’s not the same as Danny.

This can’t go any further…

* * *

Danny’s mood starts changing over the next few days. He’s less chatty, prone to snapping. He’s even raised a hand to Liam, but caught himself in time.

He’s scared. Good. He’s more fun to play with when he’s like this. Liam is hyper aware that every passing moment is torturing the bastard. Danny deserves a taste of his own medicine, and Liam is more than happy to facilitate that.

He acts like he’s about to confront the man. His expression is serious, but melts into a lighthearted smirk. Then he’d ask something trivial, just to twist the knife deeper.

_‘Danny, I need to ask you something…’ He’d started last night, watching the killer flinch. ‘Can you help me shave? You were the one that wanted me to do this.’_

_An exasperated huff. ‘Sure.’ He’d responded. When he went for the clippers, his hands were shaking ever so subtly._

Served him right.

Liam would continue to toy with his food over the next two weeks. They had picked out a new victim, a marathoner who lived out in the middle of a thick grove of trees. While it wasn’t stated, Liam knows this is because it was his first time in the field.

While he’s focused on his task, he also starts dropping hints. Not frequently, no. Just enough to push the fucker over the edge.

It all comes to a boil the night of the crime.

Liam was shuffling through a few Halloween costumes that Danny had bought during the trip. All were different types of black robes. A vampire themed one that had an unfortunately bright red collar, A sort of priest style that was too sheer, and one from those old Star Wars flicks.

Liam decides on the last one, pulling it from the plastic. That’s when Danny comes up behind him.

**“Why haven’t you asked about it.”**

He suppresses a satisfied smirk. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

The man grabs his shoulder, squeezing _hard_ . **“You know damn well what I mean. The cologne.”**

“What cologne?” He feigns ignorance.

That breaks the last straw. Danny starts to rant. **“Don’t play** **_fucking_ ** **dumb with me.”** He snarls. **“Nothing gets past you. You’re too smart for your own** **_damned_ ** **good. So** **_spill._ ** **”**

“I’m flattered, _baby_.” Liam puts a hand over Danny’s. “But I’m just a photographer.”

**“Don’t** **_lie_ ** **to me!”** Danny barks. **“Stop jerking me around already!”**

_God_ he sounded hot when he got desperate. “Let’s make a deal. If tonight goes well, I’ll share my theory.”

Ghosty’s shoulders go slack, and he breathes a sigh of relief.

“After the next press conference.” He grins, smug.

Danny sputters, words laced with rage. **“You are** **_not_ ** **the one that gets to make the rules, you insufferable prick!”**

“Aw, really? I thought we were _equals_?” Liam needles him. “I’m just working through my next move. If you’re patient, you’ll be well rewarded.”

**“You’re lucky I fucking love you.”**

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” He holds the costume up. “Now shut up and show me what to do. We’re on a schedule here.”

The killer masks his anger after that. He makes sure everything fits in their go bag. They toss their things into the car, and set off into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact. Liam picking a Star Wars costume (specifically a sith robe) is a direct reference to my cosplay of him. I didn't like how sheer most ghostface outfits were, and I wanted extra dramatic sleeves.


	12. Child's Play

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No turning back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Gore, Mild Sexual Content

This was it. This was going to happen. Danny drills Liam on his script, encouraging the newcomer to add his own flair. He seems more and more excited the closer they get. Around five miles out, they park in a thicket they’d scoped out a few days prior.

**“You ready, baby?”**

Liam nods. He changes into his gear, cinching his belt. He tucks the mobile and vocoder into an attached pouch, snapping it shut. He pointedly stares into the woods, adjusting to the mask’s limited vision.

Eventually Danny rests his fingers on the man’s hips, looking him up and down.  **“You wear it** **_so_ ** **well.”**

“Yeah, yeah…” He leans into the contact. “Are we doing this, or not?”

**“Here.”**

Danny passes him a knife. It feels like a lead weight. “I said I’m  _ not _ going in-”

A hand ghosts over his throat.  **“Shh, love. It’s just for my piece of mind. Haven’t you heard? There’s a killer on the loose.”**

“Hah hah.” Liam rolls his eyes. “Very funny.” He hooks the sheath onto his belt, disinterested in arguing. 

With nothing more to say, the pair hike into the night.

Liam gets into place, opposite of where Danny would be approaching from. He settles into the leaf litter, pulling out his cell. Quietly, he dials the house. It takes two tries to get through.

_ “Do you have any idea what time it is?” _

“It’s midnight, Andrew.”

Liam sees him enter the kitchen.  _ “Who is this?” _

“A friend of a friend.” He starts simply. “She mentioned you needed to offload a gun, ASAP.”

The man pauses, and Liam watches Danny slip into the screened patio.  _ “This ain’t some cop set up, is it?” _

“Oh not at all, Drew.” He reassures him. “I’ve just been looking to get some extra protection, since that Ghostface bastard showed up.”

_ “Ain’t that in Florida?” _

Liam confirms that Danny is all the way in, then chuckled darkly. “Not anymore...what’s your favorite scary movie?”

_ “That’s not funny.” _ The man snaps.

“Oh I think it’s hilarious.” Liam drops into a purr, channeling his partner’s mannerisms. “So tell me, which one is it?”

That’s the moment where it goes wrong. Liam hears something shatter over the speaker, followed by shouting. He can see Drew going for where the gun was kept.

_ Fuck. _

He  _ rushes _ for the door he knew would be unlocked. He’s got his knife out the second he bursts inside. He fucker’s got his revolver, swiveling to take aim-

Liam slams into his side, tackling him to the ground. Before the man can get his bearings, he does what he must. He drives his blade into the victim’s neck. The gurgling is so much worse in person. The smell of iron is overwhelming. Drew doesn’t even drop the gun. In fact, Danny has to swoop in, kicking it out of his grip.

Liam’s chest heaves, but he’s steadied when his partner pulls him to his feet.

**“Breathe, Liam. You’re gonna throw up if you keep hyperventilating.”**

He swallows thickly. “That was uncharacteristically sloppy.”

**“If you’re trying to say something, just do it.”**

Liam shakes his head. “Just take your photos so we can go.” He uses the sleeve of his robe to clean off his blade, moving towards the door.

**“You don’t wanna be in it?”** Danny sounds perplexed.

“What?” Liam is stunned. “Of  _ course _ I don’t. Just hurry up, I wanna leave.”

**“You’re such a downer, Jesus.”** He gripes, then stoops down to lift the body.

Liam leans against the doorframe, quietly dissociating. It seems like hours, even though it could only be a few minutes. Eventually, a hand slides into his own.

**“Alright. C’mon.”** Danny speaks softly, leading Liam into the darkened forest. The crunch of leaves and twigs anchors him in reality.

They reach a point where they’d stashed a duffle with their clothes, about a mile and a half away. Liam just focuses on getting out of his robes. He winces as the drying blood pulls at his skin. He shoves the soiled gear into the bag with little concern.

He faintly hears Danny say something, not really  _ listening _ to whatever he was going on about. He maneuvers his way back to the car, flopping into the passenger’s seat.

Danny tosses their things into the trunk, getting in. He reaches over, squeezing Liam’s thigh.  **“You did great, baby.”**

“Less talking, more driving.” He snaps back.

The man huffs irritably, but does get the car pointed back in the right direction. Liam decides not to address him for the rest of the trip.

* * *

When they’d arrived back, Danny had vanished into their makeshift darkroom. Liam had made a beeline for the bathroom, taking advantage of the seemingly limitless hot water. Sure, he was getting pruned and red, but it was better than letting his thoughts catch up to him.

He’d killed someone. The rational part of his brain reminds him that he’d done so to protect Danny, but that means fuck all. He’d been  _ adamant _ that he would  _ not _ be the one with blood on his hands. True, it was mostly a way to ward off his obsessive partner…

But still.

By the time Danny comes in, the water had long since run clean.

**“Hey, doll?”** He reaches in, pulling Liam out.  **“You’re gonna pass out at this rate. Get dried off and go lay down. If you’re hungry, I’ll make you something once I’m out of the shower.”**

Liam numbly complies. He doesn’t bother with pajamas, just curling up under the covers when he’s toweled off. In spite of how he thought he’d feel, the void in his chest is non-existent...Maybe it just got so big that he couldn’t tell where it ended anymore. He hears the water. With tired eyes, he watches Danny emerge from the restroom.

**“You awake?”** He asks.

“Unfortunately.”

A chuckle.  **“I popped out to get some steak when you were having your break down in the shower.”** He moves into the small kitchen, retrieving a packet from the fridge.

Liam slips out of bed, grabbing a pair of boxers to put on. “I wasn’t in there  _ that _ long.”

**“Nah. It was actually longer.”** Danny turns on the stove.  **“I also dropped the photos off at the local paper.”**

Fucks sake.

**“I’ll call you when they announce the conference.”** He starts frying the meat, not flinching when Liam winds his arms around his waist. He does laugh, though.  **“Well aren’t we being affectionate tonight?”**

He doesn’t verbally react, just ratcheting his grip tighter. Soon enough, Danny banishes him to the little dining table. 

Liam wishes that the man was a shit cook. At least he’d have something else to bitch about. The meal was  _ delicious. _ It warms him up, starting to thaw the numbness that had taken root. It’s not quite as much as he’d like, however.

“...Danny?” Liam prompts after he sets the dishes into the sink.

**“Hm?”**

“You still got that blindfold?”

You could hear the gears grind to a halt in the man’s brain.  **“...Huh?”**

Liam’s usual flustered reaction was irritability. This was no exception from that rule. “I’m saying I wanna fuck, are you deaf?”

Clearly the killer hadn’t been expecting this, but he nods excitably.  **“Oh, uh- yeah I’ve got one! Here, we can just use my bandanna- I mean, you’ll have to shut your eyes so I can take it off, I think the lube’s in the side table so-”**

Liam reaches over, slapping a hand over his mouth. “Stop blabbering before I change my mind.” He takes off his glasses, shutting his eyes as an invitation. 

Danny picks up the pace after that. He cinches the fabric tightly around Liam’s head. Then he takes his cohort by the hand, leading him back to bed.

The pop of a bottle is like a gunshot in the quiet room. Liam is dragged out of his boxers. No matter how often he’s done this, he’ll never get used to the cold slickness.

But the warmth of his partner makes it worth it…

Fingernails rake down his back. In retaliation, he bites down on the bastard’s shoulder. He’s much rougher than he usually is, taking his aggression out on a more than willing participant.

When he’s spent, he possessively clings to the man. “Good boy, Danny.” He hums.

A sharp inhale tells him he was right about the praise kink.

There’s a part of him that regrets giving into what the asshole wanted. Unfortunately, the other part is far too satisfied to care. After such a stressful day, it only takes a few minutes to drift off to sleep.

He was going to need all the rest he could get for tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're almost there, folks!


	13. Scream

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Checks and Checkmates

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go guys! I hope you're as excited as I am!!

_ Ring...ring...ring… _

Liam bolts upright, gasping for air. He scrambles for the cell, breathing hard. “What?”

**_“Conference is in an hour, at the police department. Next to the library?”_ **

“I know where it is.” He confirms.

**_“I left you the car.”_ ** Danny pauses.  **_“You remember what you promised?”_ **

“We’ll talk about it then.” Liam stretches his back. “I’ll be there.”

**_“Love you, Liam.”_ **

“...Love you too, Danny.” He quickly hangs up, before the other can react.

He goes to wash up, pleased to find that Danny hadn’t been as intense with the hickies this time. Almost all of them were on Liam’s thighs. The only one on his neck was pale, thankfully. Easy to cover up.

He’d expected to be struggling emotionally. After all, he’d ripped a man’s throat open last night...but he’s calm. In a way, he feels better than before. Freed, while dramatic, was the only word for it.

Liam picks out the nice suit Danny had bought him. It’s tight, which is how these things are meant to be, unfortunately. He despised wearing them. Such is the way of things.

He gets his equipment, tossing it into the passenger's seat. After buckling up, he takes a moment to steady himself. This was it. It was finally time to go for Danny’s king. He spends most of the drive stewing in his own thoughts. He’s surprised at the lack of traffic. Probably because the pair hadn’t been expected to strike this far north.

Georgia and Alabama had been on high alert. Tennessee, not so much.

It makes finding ‘Jed’ much easier. He’s near the front of the pack, focused on the podium. Liam sidles up next to him. “Hey, Jed.”

The man jumps, but flashes a bright grin when he ‘recognizes’ who it is. “Oh my gosh, hey! I didn’t know you’d be here?”

Liam gives a soft chuckle. “Surprise. Hey, why don’t I take you for a coffee after this?”

Jed nods enthusiastically, about to say something when the conference starts. He turns his attention back to the police chief.

She’s trying to put on a brave face, but it’s obvious that this one isn’t used to this gruesome of a crime. It’s that exact moment that makes it click for Liam. He gets it now. Why Danny chooses to pose as a reporter. Seeing the way that others reacted to their ‘work’ in real time?

It was like a drug.

The whole thing is over far too soon, much to Liam’s dismay. He puts his camera away, turning to face Jed. He offers a knowing smile. “Let’s take my ride.” He puts an arm around the man’s shoulders. With a firm hand, he guides him towards the car. Liam doesn’t pay attention to his rapid small talk.

The door shuts loudly, making Jed’s words echo. He blabbers all the way to the hotel. You’d expect him to have worn himself out at this point...but no.

“Hey...I thought we were getting-”

Liam parks. “We are. C’mon.” He doesn’t feel like playing with his food anymore. With little fanfare, he opens the room. He shoves Jed inside.

The reporter is still sputtering when Liam shoulders by him to get the pot brewing.

“I-I just, uh, what about your boyfriend?”

Ding. Liam gives him a  _ look _ . “I dunno, why don’t you tell me?”

Jed looks lost. “I’m afraid I don’t understand.”

Liam closes one of the cabinets with a slam. “Give it up, Danny.”

There’s that change in the air, and yet- “I’m Jed…”

“ _ Danny. _ ” Liam warns.

The man’s expression melts into a smug smirk. “Is that your final answer~?”

“Don’t make me throw this fucking carafe at you.” Liam threatens. “You were right. Your real voice is stupid.”

Danny sighs, shaking his head. “No need to be mean, baby. Now come and give me a kiss, damnit.”

“Didn’t you get enough of that last night?” He scowls.

“If I say no, will you bend me over the counter?” The fucker teases. “Because I’d love that.”

“Why pose as a reporter?”

“Pose?” Danny’s nose scrunches in confusion. “Sweetheart, I’ve always been one. Long before I picked up a knife, I wielded a pen. I just decided to make good stories, one way or another.”

Liam rolls his eyes.

“Besides, you get it now...right?” Danny slinks over, caging him between his arms. “Hearing them tell you what you did? It’s better than any high.”

He refuses to meet that dark gaze. “That’s one way to look at it.”

“I was watching you the whole time. You  _ felt _ it. Don’t lie over-”

“Trivial shit, I know.” Liam grabs him by his hair, relishing in seeing how Danny’s eyes ratchet wider. “Now that I’ve won-”

“Won?”

Liam’s blood runs cold.

“We’re still in check, baby.” Danny laughs, leaning in to press a kiss to his forehead.

“I-...but I figured it out!” Liam pushes him off.

“And I got you to kill.” A raspy chuckle. “So we’re still even.”

“You’re certainly tempting me to give a repeat performance.” Liam growls. “Just admit that I beat you.”

That damned smirk that decorates Danny’s face sets Liam’s teeth on edge. “I’m not going to say something that isn’t true. So, for our next one? I’ve always wanted to hit two at once-”

Liam’s shoulders slump. “Can you like...give me at  _ least _ a day before we talk business?”

“Yeah, love. No worries.” He grins, lackadaisical. “Besides, I wanted to pick your brain.”

Liam raises a brow, nodding for him to continue.

“How long have you had it figured out?” Danny folds his arm, head tilting.

“Since Frenchy’s...well, I had been suspicious of you before that, but that made it obvious.” Liam confesses.

“I’m not used to people knowing both my personas.” He moves to get a mug. “You were certainly a patient fucker. Borderline tortured me, eh?”

“Don’t be so dramatic. I earned a right to play with you too.” Liam snorts. He goes quiet, watching as Danny fixes up his drink. “So now it’s your turn. Tell me the truth...why me?”

Danny’s eyes take on a funny edge. He seems annoyed. “Liam, I already told you.” He leans against the countertop. 

“I picked you because you answered the phone.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with me through this whole thing! As I've said before, I might add on with a few post-entity drabbles. For now, if you have any questions, please don't hesitate to ask!  
> I love you all,  
> Logan


End file.
